Lyra's POV
Zarek gnashed his teeth, his brows furrowed as he fixed me with a stare. He looked as though he still couldn't believe I would say that.
Well, I will. The last thing I cared about was his feelings. I nudged my gaze at him and then into the darkness. "If I am leaving here, then I am leaving with them," I reiterated.
He grunted. "Why are human females always so stubborn?" he muttered under his breath, finally turning away from me. He pushed his sword into the thick leather scabbard on his hip. He peered into the darkness. His eyes moved, perhaps counting the prisoners in the cell.
Noises rose in the small cell, excitement rippling through the small crowd in the darkness. The ones still alive struggled to their feet, sitting up. Their eyes stretched open, gleaming in the darkness with hope.
I squeezed my nose, holding it tight and turning briefly as they raised a stronger wave of pungent odors in the cell. Feces and urine clung to their half-eaten clothes and skins.
