Jazin swayed dizzily for a moment before he locked his muscles. Sweat stung the numerous cuts as it ran down his body, but he ignored it. At least he was still standing, he thought in relief.
When he heard the footsteps approaching, he had feared it was either the guards or Tai Tek returning. He was prepared to fight. He would not be tortured again. He relaxed his fingers, dropping the rock that was cutting into his palm. His mouth went dry to the point he couldn’t even ask Dakar about Star.
The door opened suddenly and a small, delicate shape burst through it, answering his unspoken question. Star’s soft cry of rage filled the cold, dark cell as she rushed toward Jazin’s swaying form.
“Jazin,” she cried out, dropping the crossbow on the floor so she could wrap her arms around him.
Jaz
