The Way We Fall

Chapter 136 (Tigris)

Tigris came to consciousness slowly, the allure of oblivion clinging to her like sticky honey. Memories buzzed through her mind as she rose languidly to the rustle of noise. A battle. Being surrounded, overwhelmed, aching and exhausted as swords swung at her. She'd been fighting, only bone deep instincts keeping her alive.

Then suddenly some of her weariness and illness had receded, like a tide pulling back before a tsunami. A sword rushed for her neck, and she couldn't get her sword up in time to block it. The last thing she'd seen was a pair of green eyes, the same shade as her own, staring at her in horror.

Finn.

The thought dragged her upright, gasping. The world was dark and dingy, reeking of dampness. She was lying on a stone floor, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The moment she sat up, her head ached.

"Welcome back," a voice greeted her dryly. She narrowed her eyes with a wince, focusing on the figure sitting on the other side of the cell. She squinted, making out a familiar face in the darkness.

"Aodh? Is that you?" she gasped. He nodded, his ice blue eyes glinting frigidly, like glowing crystals in the darkness. He leaned forward, his eyes running over her.

"Are you alright?"

Tigris massaged her temples, the ache dulling already. "I'm fine. Where's Finn and Roche?"

"I'm here!" a voice called out from her left. Tigris turned, slamming into thick metal bars. She reeled back, shock filling her as she finally recognized where she was.

The dungeons. They'd locked her in the dungeons.

Her. The goddamn princess.

"The irony is fucking poetic," Tigris grunted, gripping the bars. In the cell across from her and Aodh's, she could see Roche smiling slightly.

"Damn straight it is," Roche replied. Her voice dipped with concern, "You alright, princess?"

"I'd be better out of this cell. Where's my father? And Finn?"

"Not here, my lady," another voice echoed. A second face appeared beside Roche, and Tigris' eyes widened. Relief flowed through her at the grizzled face of her head knight.

"Sir Harold! How are you awake?" Tigris exclaimed, scanning the man for injury. He didn't look ill. In fact, Tigris realised that she didn't feel sick anymore either. The enchantment had been lifted, somehow.

Harold gripped the bars of the cell tightly, his eyes somber. "I do not know," he informed her grimly, "The knights and I awoke from illness surrounded by strange men. They were... undead, my lady."

"Zombies," Roche added helpfully, scrubbing her face tiredly, "The proper term is zombies."

Harold ruffled her hair endearingly. "Thank you, lass. Yes, they were zombies. They aren't very strong, but they are heavily numbered and can reform. We were overtaken."

Tigris fought a wave of disappointment. Somehow, the illness enchantment had been lifted but not the one animating the undead warriors, go figure.

"Are the rest of the knights alright?" she asked, concern tightening her chest.

Harold nodded. "Aye, they're fine. They're locked together. They brought me here because I was causing too much of a ruckus. That, and the fact that I am the head knight."

Tigris grimaced, leaning as far out as she could. "Where's Finn?"

Roche coughed awkwardly. "Well-"

A clang sounded down the hall, and the maid instantly shut up. Tigris was on her feet in a moment, Aodh behind her.