Emerald Eyes *FIRST DRAFT*

A tale has long been told of the girl with emerald eyes. But this is more than just a story. Its a destiny...

Book 2 in the Chalson Chronicles. All rights reserved. Cover designed by Alicia Keyes.


9. Knifes In The Dungeon

When I woke, I was hanging by my wrists from the roof of a dark room. Wriggling around, I tried in vain to release my hands from the chains, but they were too tight. I groaned and looked around my prison. The room was large, so large I couldn't see the end of the walls, the dark engulfing everything and water dripping from the ceiling.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," I would recognize that voice anywhere. Guiver, "The girl with emerald eyes. All on her own, with none of those pesky rebels to save you. Not trying to escape I hope."

He jabbed his sword at my neck, causing me to flinch back. The man laughed. That was cut short when I spat in his face. Guivers hand grabbed my neck with such force, I whimpered.

"Do not take me for a fool, Evelyn. Given your current situation, I would be groveling for forgiveness like the little rat you are," he snarled, circling me like a hungry dog. The sword was soon pressed to my throat again, close enough to draw blood.

"Enough, Guiver," a voice cut through the dank air. He removed his sword from my throat with a grunt and leaned up against the wall. I relaxed a bit and focused my gaze on the woman in-front of me. Long, black curls were piled up on top of her head, secured by several jeweled pins, and her full length, purple dress shimmered every time she moved. Around her neck there was a metal rose, probably a gift from a old boyfriend, and a bracelet of blue and purple bells jingled on her wrist.

"Welcome to Thorne Palace dungeons, Evelyn daughter of Romia.I probably need no introduction," she was inches from me, a evil smirk on her seemingly pretty face

I returned her gaze and snarled, "Yes." Her smile fell and I picked it up.

"I'm your Queen, you little brat. Queen Opeh. Rasco hasn't taught you as well as I thought he would. No matter," she waved her hand for Guiver to leave and started circling me,"We can still have a nice conversation."

"I'll never tell you anything."

"We'll see about that," a knife whipped out from her dress and she tossed it from hand to hand, "Where are the rebels?" My mouth remained silent.

"Very well,"Opeh sighed and dug the knife in to my arm. I screamed, the pain more than I'd ever felt. Tears pricked my eyes as she dragged it down my skin and my blood dripped on to my shoulder.

"Where are they?" I still didn't speak. The knife cut across my stomach this time, pain radiating through me, making me numb. It assaulted my other arm, legs and face, not stopping until I was nothing but blood. The pain, the pain. It was worse than the pain I felt when my parents died. But I wasn't going to tell her anything. If I did, they'd all die. Because of me. I raised my bloody head and spat in her face, my foot connecting with her stomach. She gasped for breath but, when she raised her head, her eyes were red. Her fist slammed in to my face and I could feel a few teeth rattling around my mouth.

"Don't mess with me, girl. I have more power than you'll even know," the dagger cut the fabric on my back with ease, grazing my skin, "Perhaps you need a reminder of that power though."

It plunged in to my skin, making me cry out. I bit down hard on my tongue to stop myself from crying out. The knife cut my skin like a paintbrush on paper, only deadly. I could feel myself spiraling in to oblivion, red instead of black. The pain didn't go away.


I was still in the dungeon when I came back around, what had to be at least a day later. My wrists were numb from the chains, dry blood forming crusted ridges all over my body. I tried twisting around to see my back and I caught a glimpse of it in the water. If I'd of know what it looked like, I wouldn't of looked. The fabric was torn to shreds, hanging like limp bodies and the skin was more paper than skin. 'Bitch' had been scrawled across it in messy, knifed script and the blood seem more suited to a beheading than a back. For the first time since my capture, I cried. I cried like there was no tomorrow. I cried for my parents, for Jago, for my friends, for Cassia and the rebels. My tears could of turned the room in to a small ocean of pain, grief and blood. It was all my  fault. I could of saved my parents, no matter what Cassia told me. They wouldn't of dies if it wasn't for me, the girl with emerald eyes. If it wasn't for me and my damn eyes, Jago would of known them. He wouldn't be a orphan from birth and have a perilous life, right from day one. I had to protect him. I had to make sure he lived, he survived. He was my responsibility now. I'm his big sister, his only surviving family. He was mine to protect. And if I was going to, I would have to get out of here. I began to twist, my wrists stinging but I didn't care. Groaning in effort, I turned and twisted for what seem like hours. The shackles were still no looser.

"Do you really think you're going to get out that way?" My head shot up. Cassia ran up to me and began fiddling with my chains. I felt myself relax completely, tears assaulting my eyes again. The chains clanked to the floor and I collapsed in to his arms. He pulled me over to a wall and sat me down on the floor so my back was against the wall. Pulling a small bottle from his bag, the boy poured it over my many cuts. I had to bite my tongue again to stop myself from crying out.

"Is that all of them?" Cassia looked up at me with eyes full of worry. I turned, with some effort, to show him my back. A word I never thought I'd hear him say echoed around the chamber. The liquid was poured over the scrawl, making my back sting like I was being whipped. I gasped. His hands clasped around mine and pulled me up, his arms around my waist. If I hadn't of been in so much pain I would of enjoyed it. We ran as fast as I could out of the dungeon, Cassia's sword digging in to the hearts of the guards. The journey through the palace was so stop and start I soon couldn't remember the way back. Behind us, we only left a path of dead guards and  dry specks of my blood. My cuts were healing up, but the pain of movement was excruciating. We were out of Thorne Palace in under half an hour and heading down to a boat. I fell, the pain too much. Cassias arms swiped under me, lifting me up off the ground and carried me to the boat. He placed me carefully inside and he pushed it off, jumping in himself.

I was just about to close my eyes, when something back on the shore flashed into my view. A man, the same man from Benlat, stood there, his black cloak billowing out in the wind. I was close enough that I could see the silvery hair poking out from under his hood and the spooky smile on his lips. They formed just one word before he vanished.



For all I know I could of dreamed it though. My eyes were closed almost immediately after he'd left, the gentle movement of the boat rocking me in to a sleepy state. I sighed and turned towards the sun, the pain beginning to ease. A pair of lips pressed themselves gently mine, softer than anything I've ever felt towards. Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach and my heart was beating faster than it ever had. The lips lingered slightly as they pulled away, and my eyes flickered open. Cassia's eyes were locked against mine, his hand caressing my hair. We both smiled and laughed quietly. He leaned in again and kissed me on the forehead, the cheek, the mouth. I felt warmth rushing through me as we kissed and felt breathless with joy when we stopped. Kissing my forehead one last time, the boy straighted up, smiling, and turned back to steering the boat. With the boat still rocking gently and a wondrous warmth coursing through my veins, I drifted off to sleep.

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