Free The Griever's Mark (The Griever's Mark series Book 1) by Katherine Hurley Page B

from here. You cannot fight.”
    I reach half-heartedly for the Drift once more. Nothing. I can’t escape. If I could, I have nowhere to go. I can’t go back to Belos. His name brings a wave of fear. My Leash! He will find me, he—
    He can’t enter the Floating Lands.
    This is the one place he can’t get me.
    Despite my situation, I feel a sudden sense of safety, of immunity. The Earthmakers may take my life, but they cannot take my mind.
    Clitus shifts impatiently. I have to decide: would I rather die fighting or let them take me?
    Logan’s eyes plead; his hand reaches for me. He has not asked me to trust him, has not promised to protect me. Why would he? Of course his loyalty is to his people, to his family. But I remember his panic as he carried me. He was worried. He did not want me to die. But. Could it be that he only wanted me to live so he could get information from me? They don’t know how little Belos tells me; I must look like quite a prize. I don’t know, I just don’t know.
    Suddenly, I am worn out, too tired to think. If only they would attack, I might find the strength and will to fight. But they don’t. They wait.
    Wearily, I incline my head. Polemarc Clitus stalks over and grips my arm.
     

 
    Chapter 10
     
    WE PASS FROM the main hall into one of the arched passageways. We are swallowed briefly by darkness, but I don’t have to see; Clitus never eases his grip on my arm, and he clearly knows where we’re going. Logan, the Arcon, the young Warden whose name I already forgot, and Prima Gaiana are behind us. The uneven footsteps are Logan’s. I know I shouldn’t care, but I’m worried about him. He should get off that leg before he makes it worse.
    We turn a corner to find an arched doorway filled with moonlight. We pass through it into a large square courtyard. The courtyard is lined on all four sides with covered walkways, and we are moving through one of those, passing by sturdy columns. I hear wind rising beyond the building, but it doesn’t reach us here. The dark shapes of the courtyard’s trees are still. In the courtyard’s center stands a pale stone fountain. Water trickles from the mouth of some sea creature that forms the central figure, the cheery bubble incongruous alongside our silent, tense passing. Around the sea creature are carved even stranger shapes, half human, half fish. I can’t make out the details, and we are soon at the end of our walkway, moving again into darkness.
    Several turns. I try to memorize them, knowing I should collect information, but my mind won’t focus well enough. My side hurts. I know it was partially Healed, or else I would probably be dead, but it bites at me, drains me. And I am tired, so tired. I’ve used the Drift heavily today and been in several fights. I haven’t eaten since I wolfed down the plateful of greasy meat at the Trader’s Choice.
    At some point, Clitus stops me. My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I see him taking something from the wall. He goes silent and still, then fire blooms by his face, engulfing the head of a torch. I am used to earthmagic, but I still jerk back at the gleam of his Earthmaker eyes. He looks euphoric, like Theron or any of the Seven when they use earthmagic. I wonder, do I look like that when I use the Drift? Somehow, I doubt it. Then again, I rarely enjoy those things I use the Drift to do.
    The Polemarc turns, tugs me forward.
    We pass into an older part of the building. I can smell its age. The airy entryway where all this started smelled clean and fresh, a mix of ocean breeze and healthy plants. Here the smell is musty and damp. In the flare of Clitus’s torch, the stone is revealed to be darker and rougher, the ceilings lower. When we reach an opening, cool air creeps from it.
    Clitus dips the torch toward a sconce secured to the old stone wall. The sconce flares to life, doubling the light, revealing a winding stair that can only lead to the cells. I try to breathe deeply, to calm myself; I