*Fiona*
The world swims around me for a moment. I pause as I get down the stairs. Anger drives me forward; all I can think about is finding my father. The guards had been nice enough to lead me down the stairs, apparently no longer afraid that I would beat them up or try to run away.
The corridors are quiet and cold. I shiver but ignore it. The guards we pass are all wide-eyed. I must look ghastly, but I don’t care.
The dungeons reek of damp stone, silver, and blood. The last is new from the last time I was here. The guard unlocks the heavy door that leads into the dungeons, and in the first cell, I see him. My father is barefoot, unshaven, sitting on a pile of straw.
He looks up and has the nerve to look concerned. “Fiona?”
“How dare you?” I hiss, crossing the distance until the ir
