“Hello?” Freya yelled.
I held my breath as I waited for a response. It felt like ten years of my life passed before someone answered.
“If you aren’t here to rescue us, then at least take the witches with you.” It was Dayna, her voice loud and clear.
I sprinted forward. “Dayna,” I screamed, heedless of danger. That was my baby sister rotting in Cathal’s dungeon. I was going to kill him if Torben didn’t beat me to it.
“Allete,” Dayna yelled back.
I nearly laughed at the sound of her voice. She sounded exasperated, as if she’d been expecting me. Then I remembered Myra telling me about the dream in which she’d been able to reach out to Dayna. Perhaps she had been.
I came to a skidding halt in front of her. Dayna stood in a cell, her hands wrapped around the bars. She wore a linen tunic a
