“I don’t remember any of that,” I fire at his back. “You could be making that shit up for all I know.”

Laasya returns, and when he’s locked the cage, he hands the keys to her. As he exits the room, his boots fall on the stone floor with almost complete silence. He moves with a grace that doesn’t belong to a man of his size.

Pulling my gaze away, I take in long breaths. The collar feels like a noose. My fingers tingle with the warning a panic attack is imminent, and nausea roils my stomach. I’m used to these symptoms, though. I just need to keep my mind focused on other things. Like this upcoming interview and getting out of this cage. But mostly discovering what this Blackriver place has to do with my parents. That’s the main reason I’m here. How I’ll pull that off, though, I’ve no idea.

Laasya’s watching me through the bars. Her tilted head and soft frown suggest I’m a dangerous but wounded animal in need of special care. “I’m right here, Michael. We won’t leave you alone in the cage. I brought you a sandwich.” She pushes the paper bag through a gap. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for now. Then we can walk to Councilor Quinton’s office.”

I ignore the twinge of shame that Laasya feels the need to reassure me and tramp over to take the package. I catch the scent of sweet spice from the bag and a breath of Laasya’s rose perfume. I can smell her sweat beneath it and some kind of herbal shampoo. My sense of smell seems as acute as a dog’s since I woke. She passes me the bottle of water and the flask, but they both remind me how much I need that leak.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta…” I trail off, indicating the bucket with a sideways nod.

“Oh, yes. Of course,” she says, cheeks pinking, and turns her back.

I shuffle over to the other side of the cage, dumping my lunch on the bed, and after a lot of awkward fumbling, manage to relieve myself in the bucket. Did I really wrench a toilet from the ground and throw it? Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.

When I’m done, I perch on the edge of the bed. The iron shackles cause a funny sort of weakness in my limbs, as if the metal sucks the strength from my muscles. The Flame energy seems to avoid the parts of my body where the iron touches my skin, gathering in my shoulders and hips, causing a tightness at the base of my skull. And I’m sure the iron pressing against my skin is partly responsible for the nausea in my gut.