Page 7 of A Soul’s Awakening

“Look, Alistair,” Leon said in a low, gravelly voice. “I mean, Sir, with all due respect, I know you believe he’s perfectly balanced or whatever. That he’s the Syndicate’s savior. But there’s … something off about him. He’s evaded the rift wardens for months now, and despite being a living person in the underworld, he’s barely affected by the difference in magic. I think his magic is still adapting and growing. He’s just like—”

“Orren is a pathetic beast,” Alistair cut in. “How many times have you failed to control that pathetic beast of yours, and you think you’re going to control a human?” Alistair thought about it for about ‌half a second before he flung out his hand. Although I didn’t see a black ring, his fingertips glistened with silver magic and glowing chains shot out to coil around Leon’s neck. He started choking, clawing for release as he gasped for air.

“You’re not wrong. There is something special about this man, and it’s far too valuable to waste on the likes of you.” Alistair tossed Leon aside. His magic loosened its grip and dissolved. Leon sat there, crumpled on the floor.

“Y-you’re just going to give him up? After all that trouble of getting him here?” Leon rubbed his neck.

A sinister smirk curved across Alistair’s lips; the kind that suggested he already knew the ending to a story no one else had realized had begun. “I’ll reward you for bringing him in. We’ll study this sample of magic, but he goes to auction. He’ll fetch a high price for sure. Any ghost would love a chance to live again, and any living person would surely jump at the opportunity to evade death. If you want his magic that badly, pay for it.”

I clumsily rose to my feet, clenching my fists as I boldly claimed, “You’ll never get away with this.”

Both Leon and Alistair burst out laughing. Alistair approached me, and I could feel it settle deep in my chest, cold and heavy; a weight that made my stomach knot with fear. “And what do you plan on doing to stop me? No one even knows you’re here, Theo. And even if you escaped this building, how are you getting back? I control the veil around this place. Without my permission to leave, you’re stuck here.”

Silver flared through the veins in his face and neck, bright and vital rather than tainted. Was this corrupted magic connected to him somehow?

I had no response to Alistair. Jacob knew I had been taken, but he had no idea where that doorway went, not that he could even travel through it. But I held my ground, keeping eye contact as I locked into a staring contest with Alistair.

“We’re done here.” He glanced at Leon, waving a dismissive hand in the air as he turned around to return to his desk. “Lock him up with the others. And if I see you messing with my merchandise, there will be consequences.”

The silver chains vanished, and Alistair winked at me as Leon grumbled, forcefully grabbing my arm to drag me out of the room.

“I look forward to seeing what you’re capable of, witch!” Alistair’s chuckle followed me into the hall as Leon dragged me away. He led me down the maze of hallways, back toward the elevator, and we descended another three floors before exiting.

The Syndicate’s basement prison was a carefully constructed nightmare enveloped in fear, the air smelling faintly like mildew and something sour. There were about a dozen holding cells lined with metal bars, most appearing to be empty but lived in. The walls were rough concrete, cracked in places where moisture had crept through, and the dim fluorescent lights overhead cast everything in a sickly yellow hue.

“One way or another, I will make you mine!” Leon waved his hand in front of an empty cell. The glow of the metal bars dulled, the gate opened, and he shoved me inside.

I turned around to face him as the metal bars buzzed with magic again. “Careful there, Leon. That almost sounded like you’re trying to stake a romantic claim on me. Ren might not be happy about that.”

Frustrated and embarrassed, his lips pressed into a thin line and he stormed away.

With nothing left but my thoughts and a thin mattress pad with a spring poking out of it, I laid down and let the lingering effects of the drug pull me under.

5

I woke up some time later, drained and exhausted. Without a clock or a window, I couldn’t tell how long it had been. I rubbed my eyes, reaching for my magic and thankful to feel it stirring inside me. It had fully returned once the chains were removed, and I was able to clear the effects of that drug easily, but when I looked around my new concrete cage, I knew there was no way for me to get out. The walls were covered with runes and the metal bars were alive with magic. If I tried to tamper with it, I’d probably lose my arms.

A scuffle in the far corner caught my attention. From the darkness, a curious pair of blue eyes shone through the shadows to stare at me.

“Oh. Hey,” I said as I observed my cellmate from afar. I would have certainly noticed a second person in this cell when I arrived. They must have come back after I passed out. “I’m Theo. What’s your name?”

The prisoner couldn't have been much older than a teenager. Long, matted hair and layers of grime concealed most of their features, and their slight frame made me assume they were a girl. The moment I looked their way, she curled in on herself, hiding her face against her knees while a tremor ran through her thin body.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I tried to soothe my voice, but it was dry and scratchy. I had had nothing to eat or drink for almost a full day. “I’m sorry if I stole your bed. I hope you didn’t sleep the entire night on the cold floor.”

“Good luck getting any answers,” came a male voice from the cell across from me. “Kid hasn’t said a single word the entire time I’ve been kept here, so you might as well save your breath.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Jordan.” Another voice carried from the cell next to mine. I couldn’t see them, but the tone was unmistakably female … older, softened by time rather than broken by it. “How are you holding up? I’m Marin. Nice to meet you, although I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Theo.” I pushed myself up from the mattress pad and walked over to stand in front of the metal bars, peering out across the hallway to the man staring back at me. Sunken eyes had a wary intelligence, and the pale skin stretched tight over his sharp cheekbones was evidence of months, maybe years, spent in this prison constantly undergoing Syndicate torture, whatever that might have been. His hair was tangled and greasy, hanging in uneven clumps around his gaunt face. His clothes were ragged, sleeves torn and stained, and the hollowed look in his expression spoke of someone who had long since learned how to survive in silence.

“You’re lucky,” Jordan picked up a stale piece of bread and unsuccessfully tried to bite into it. “The three of us have been here for years. At least you get the luxury of a quick death. Auction day is tomorrow.”

“That hardly sounds like a win to me.” I backed away from the metal bars to inspect the child huddled in the corner of the cell. She was shivering, the air in the basement cold and damp, and her ripped, oversized short-sleeve shirt was doing nothing to stop the chill from crawling into her bones.

Without hesitating, I removed my coat and offered it to her.

“Here. Take this. It’s not very thick, but it’ll keep you warm.”