~Regan~
I can't stand still. The damp dungeon feels like it is closing in on me. My chest is tight as I pace back and forth, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the walls. Zeke sits in a corner, nursing his injuries, his face a mask of pain and anger after we tried to break the bars on the cell.
The steel was spelled decades ago. You'd think it would have worn off by now. But clearly not as I look at my hands. The bars are infused with water hemlock and wolfsbane, which causes nasty burns. All three of us burned to pieces. My hands feel like rubber because the burns are that deep.
Lyon stares vacantly at the remains of the curse on the blackened walls. A curse I have committed to memory, not that it has done me any good over the years. However, Lyon is trapped in the con
