Or had been, he corrected, for he felt none of the power throbbing through his veins that he usually did, first as a Forsworn Protector, then as a Guardian, and, finally, as one of the few and honored: a Sightless of Narcissi, the epitome of power, blessed with complete control over his godsblood-given Ability. Even after he’d chosen to leave the Rocklands and his sworn duties, that power had lived inside him, always there, a fact that, no matter how distracted he was, he was always aware of.

Until now.

Now it was just…gone. Vanished the second Korsiris had been vanquished, as though it had never lived in him to begin with, or even existed.

Under the circumstances, it felt right, what he deserved. What he’d earned.

The half-dozen guards that surrounded him stopped. The whole thing was meant to be a show of force with the goal of discouraging any sort of rebellion from their prisoner. It was unnecessary, as not only did he not have access to even a shred of his Ability, but even if he did, escape wasn’t on his list of tasks for the day. Nor would it ever be. Plus, if he did still have his power and a mind to free himself, even a hundred guards wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly. In fact, the very torches that lit their halls would’ve become his weapons to secure his victory.

A door gripped by hinges in desperate need of oiling protested as it groaned open. “Get in,” one of the guards commanded, a thick-chested man who enjoyed exerting his authority through physical means, something Cainan had learned after the first black eye, a lesson that hadn’t prevented the second black eye.

Now, he could barely see through his swollen eye slits, but he headed for the dark rectangle that would be his cell anyway. Despite his obedience, the violent guard offered a blow to the back of his head to help him on his way. The impact sent him sprawling headfirst into the dust, the darkness flashing with stars that weren’t really there and which he’d never see again.

The door’s metal frame reverberated as it slammed shut, the guards’ laughter receding down the corridor as they left him. Alone. At last. Silence permeated everything, such that even his slightest movement or intake of breath could be heard like the pounding of a drum.

This deep beneath the fortress-like walls of Finfalla’s most famous prison, it smelled of rot and mold and decay. He wondered whether those prisoners who passed away in its tiny stone boxes were ever removed, or if he’d find the rat-gnawed bones of his cell’s previous tenant littering the floor if he moved about.