He pauses our march to gaze upon the city. "Magnificent, is it not?"

"That isn't the word I'd use," I say. It's befitting that a man who drains blood would live in a black city that drains life from the field around it. In his eyes it's a home, with huge brick walls and sentries for protection, but in mine it's a nest of vicious vampires that wish to crush me beneath their feet.

Our journey is over, and I fear what that means for me. The city which brings him comfort brings me distress. There's no reason for me to follow him through its gate.

I take a deep breath and muster my confidence. "This is where we part," I announce.

"Oh, is it?" He raises an eyebrow, not taking me seriously.

"Yes," I square my shoulders, "You're home. You don't need my blood anymore. I can go free."

"That's cute," he chuckles.

I glare at him. "Cute?"

"Your misunderstanding of the situation. 'Tis cute, almost childlike. Did you think I was jesting when I said I had plans for you, friend of Ivan?"

I gulp. He may be my Uncle, but I barely ever saw him. It was Jacob who visited him, not me. "I told you, I don't know him."

"Is that so?" He's not buying my lie in the slightest. "Then I suppose you have no further use to me. Fortunately, young women like yourself are the most popular choice for those who like to keep fresh blood on hand. There's a market in the city center, and I know you'll make a fine pet."

I shoot him a dirty look, and he smirks.

We continue our path towards the city. The huge black walls loom over us. They cast a shadow that envelopes our tiny frames well before we reach the gate. The city is huge, with red tiled roofs extending as far as I can see. I'm in a state of disbelief that walls of such immense height could circle such a large place.

The walls are joined by tall towers with round roofs. A crisscrossed metal grid hangs above the gate, ready to slam shut at a moment's notice. I can't imagine why they need such a large entrance. Its height could accommodate an elephant riding another elephant.

Two towers loom over us from either side of the gate, with slits in their walls to allow soldiers to peer out. Every edge is carved to be round. It looks nothing like any structure I've laid eyes on, and its foreignness serves as a reminder of how far I've strayed from home.

It's built to be impossible to siege, but at the same time, impossible to escape. Though I don't want to admit it to myself, I know that after I cross the gate's threshold, I'll never be able to leave of my own volition.

Nine armored guards linger by the entrance. Their huge builds leave no doubt in my mind that they're vampires. A few glance in our direction as we enter, but they show little interest. I doubt they'd be so apathetic if I tried to leave unaccompanied.

The houses inside are just as strange – built with wood and red tiled roofs, at least two or three stories high. They're all connected to each other, attaching to the city's walls wherever possible. Every edge is rounded, and the upper floors overhang the muddy street.

A robed vampire exits as we enter, and his gaze lingers on me as he passes by. I avert my eyes as I'm reminded of the rope around my neck. They must consider me no different from a mule with this bag on my back. In this city, I have the status of an animal, if not less. To the guards, I'm not a citizen of an enemy nation, I'm Rahlan's property.

The thought makes my heart sink. I used to be able to shrug off Rahlan's claims of ownership over me, but now it feels so much closer to reality. Before there was a rope standing between me and freedom, but now there's a fifty-foot wall and hundreds of armed guards.

I quicken my pace to walk beside Rahlan, hoping I'll appear a little more equal.

"Looking forward to your punishment? I know I am," he says.

"You take pleasure at the thought of me suffering?" I have far more reason to hate him then he has for me, yet I don't wish him pain. I just wish him to be somewhere very far away from me.

"I take pleasure in the thought of the obedient and mild-mannered human I'm about to acquire."

He tucks my hair behind my ear. I jerk back and mentally scold myself for not pulling away sooner.

"There are ample punishments that will not cause you harm," he says.

I hate how giddy he is about this whole thing.

"Can't you forgive me?" I ask, "I didn't mean for you to get shot."

"That blame does not rest on your shoulders. You did not draw the bow." He pauses. "Know that if you do try to injure me, I will return the favor."

I would never try to injure someone, except maybe for my own self-defense. I've been on the receiving end enough times to know that I wouldn't want to dish out such a horrible feeling. But if he doesn't consider it my fault, then why is he so insistent about making me pay?

"If you don't blame-"

"Your punishment is for trying to flee, again. That habit is becoming rather bothersome."

Is it possible to change his mind, or is a human's word just not worth consideration?

A figure in a second story window catches my eye – a human girl around my age in a frilly white dress. I'd expect humans trapped in a vampire city to appear more distressed, yet she seems almost disconnected from the world around her. Is she one of the pets Rahlan spoke of?

Her eyes look down on me with pity. I wonder if other vampires lead their captives around on a leash, or if it is-

Something hits my face, and it takes me a second to realize that I bumped into someone. A hand grabs my coat, and I'm flung back with incredible force. My bound arms are useless to break my fall, and my body hits the ground and rolls across the dirt road.

After a brief moment of wiggling, I resign myself to lay on the ground. It's impossible to sit up on my own.

I shake my head and try blink the dust out of my eyes. It was Rahlan who threw me like a dangerous snake. What did I do?

He has his back to me, and his hand on his sheathed sword. All his attention is on a man in a hooded robe – the man I bumped into. The man's slightly shorter than Rahlan, with a much slimmer build. No – it's a woman. Though I can't see her eyes, her pale skin and confident posture confirm that she's a vampire. No human would be so secure in such an evil city. Her lips part with a smile, baring her elongated canines, almost as if she's showing them off.

If she's trying to intimidate me, mission accomplished. I'm glad Rahlan is standing between us, especially since I can't even sit up.

The guards' pay close attention, ready to intervene if a fight breaks out. Rahlan's gaze is locked with the woman's, both of them waiting for the other to make a move.

A guard steps forward, and the woman breaks her death stare. She turns away and continues out the gate.

Rahlan pulls me to my feet. "Eyes forward when walking," he growls.

Who was she? He seemed more concerned there than he did when facing the ravagers.

He pulls the neck rope taut, keeping me less than a foot from him. I wish my hands were free so I could get this damn thing off.

We turn off the main road and head down a dimly lit alley. I resist the urge to gawk at the tall houses on either side of us out of concern that I'll bump into another psychopath. The one dragging me through here is more than enough.

He knows exactly where he's going, and the surrounding buildings are becoming more rundown as we walk. The front of the city displayed wealthy homes, whereas these shoddy wooden structures are crowded on top of one another. Where is he taking me? The possibility that he could inflict my punishment at any moment is an ever-present source of anxiety.

His hand wraps around my arm, and he leads me down a set of stairs at the base of a building. He's brought me to a grimy stone basement.

He forces me forward into a poorly lit passage, and I grit my teeth when the bars come into view. It's a dungeon. The passage is lined with cells on either side. A thick smell of mold overwhelms my senses.

The cells are divided into two, an upper and lower level, neither tall enough to allow prisoners to stand. There's no doubt in my mind that this place is meant for humans.

We reach the decaying wall which marks the end of the passage. He kneels to inspect the bottom cell. It's not much more than a square hole in the wall, with darkness obscuring its far end.

He removes the bag off my back and works on the knot by my chin.

"You're punishing me with prison? As if I'm a criminal?"

He frees me from the rope. "No. I have more important tasks to attend to."

The cold wet air makes me shiver. He leans his weight on my shoulders, and I ignore his hint to kneel. He presses his knees against mine, forcing me down and shoving me in the cell.

"But worry not," he says, "You will atone for your disobedience soon enough. Until then, self-reflection would be a good use of your time." He slams the barred door closed and turns the key, and the lock engages with a clunk.

His footsteps fade away as he exits the passage, and an eerie silence creeps in to take its place. The cell's stone ceiling is too short to stand, and it's only just long enough to lie down. The air is stale, and the wet stone walls are covered in a disgusting black grime.

The sunlight doesn't touch my cell. It's illuminated by nothing more than a dim glow reflected down the passage. This place is bare other than a bucket in the corner, and there's a suffocating atmosphere of rot and decay, like a tomb.

I stretch out my hand and test the bars. The door doesn't budge, and the keyhole is shielded with an iron plate to keep it out of my reach. The bars are embedded in the stone floor and low ceiling. I try rattle and twist each one, but none of them have even the slightest give. There's no getting out of here.

My cell is perpendicular to the passage, blocking my view from everything other than the empty cell opposite me.

"Hello?" I call, hoping for a companion in this dire situation.

No one answers. I'm alone in this place.

I pull the coat tight around my small form. The pressure gives me a sense of security, even if it is superficial. I've never been locked in a dungeon before. I'm a law-abiding citizen, yet now I'm treated like a criminal - no worse, like an animal. Rahlan's going to subject me to something horrible, and I have no power to stop it. He calls it a punishment, saying I must atone, as if this is some twisted form of justice. What laws have I broken? He has killed men for sport, yet there's no one to hold him accountable. He lives under the law of his king, but I live under the law of Rahlan – a place where my freedom can be taken away just for who I am.

I'm upset. I shouldn't let it cloud my thinking, but I can't help feeling discouraged by the situation. I'm locked in a cell, in a well-guarded city, further from my brother than ever before. It's almost nonsensical that I traveled such a long journey only to be trapped in a place too small to stand. If I hadn't been captured, I'd be in Fekby right now. I'd be with Jacob.

He will have heard of the loss of our village by now. He must know that something went wrong on my journey to meet him. What if he believes me dead? If he leaves Fekby without me, how will I find him? He's the only real family I've got left, and probably my only friend too.

No, I shouldn't worry. He's clever. He'll leave a path for me to follow, a message of some kind. I just hope he doesn't grieve as if I was lost.

Hours pass. The silence is interrupted only by dripping water and the occasional rat squeak. I search my cell the first time I hear it out of paranoia. Why would such a creature be down here? There's no food to steal.

Food. My mind has been on food for a while now. I haven't eaten since this morning, and that was only an apple. He wouldn't leave me down here to starve, would he? He needs me alive for his plan, but if he figured out another way to find Ivan, then what would happen to me? Would he even come back? There'd be no accountability, no punishment for him, other than maybe a fine for creating a foul stench in the dungeon.

I curl up in a ball in the center of my cell, bringing the coat's collar up to my nose. It's big enough to cover me head to toe if I tuck in my knees, and its inner woolen layer retains heat much better than the old linen shirt I had before. The thing which gives me the most comfort in this miserable place belongs to Rahlan.