My startled gasp echoes through the well, slithering all the way up to Renit, who immediately braces his hands on the inside wall of the well, leaning over the side to get a better look. I stumble back but my feet don't budge so I land on my butt, water splashing around me.

"What happened?" Renit asks desperately. I shake the skull from my grip, where my hand had been locked around the mouth of whoever died down here.

My breaths come in heavy rasps as through the surface of the murky, moss filled water, the skull stares back at me. Then, it begins to sink back into the sand. That can't be good.

I stand on shaken knees, bracing my hands against the cold stone. Expecting my power to give me the answers as to how old this well is, I receive nothing. My power doesn't work down here. The well is dulling my power. That had to be another tip that was smudged out years ago from age—the well dulls a witch's power to make it even more difficult to retrieve this box.

"Renit?" I ask, my voice shaken. "Renit, can you use your power?"

He pauses for a moment, looking behind his shoulder. "Yes, I can use it," he responds. His voice, slightly frightened, does not help my fears.

"I don't have access to mine." I stare up at him, resting the back of my head against the stone to fully view the confusion on his face. He blinks, then furrows his brows.

The only time I haven't had access to my power was with the titanium band. All those weeks Renit kept my power locked away, I didn't necessarily need to access it. But on the trail, when the rebels attacked, I needed it the most and I couldn't stop Bren's group from hurting the prince without my power.

This moment feels precisely like that one did. A heavy churning in my gut, my heart racing, vomit rising into my throat. I don't have my power and if there's any other threats down here, I could find myself in severe danger. If there are more skulls underneath the water...

"That's fine," Renit soothes. "You don't need it. If anything goes wrong, I'll go down there."

Strands of my hair trickle with the poisonous water after I landed in it, dripping down my clothes. I pull the strands back behind my head to avoid them finding their way into my mouth while I'm searching. I force myself to stand, rocking back and forth as my feet stick further into the sand, and bend down to begin searching once more.

My hand closes around the ribcage and I squeeze my eyes shut, only for a moment. I can't let that bother me. It's just a body, someone that died down here when they couldn't get out. Over time, their body sunk into the sand and their death was quick, ended by the poisonous water. I try to keep that thought in my mind, a release of quick death, as I move my hands around the body to find another hard lump waiting for me.

"Please don't be another body," I whisper to myself. A splinter digs into my finger and I nearly sob with relief as I yank with all my might and tug that box back to the surface.

I spot the gold edging first, then the strong lock, and the dark wood framing it all. My arms burn with the effort to yank it from the sand. Renit hollers from the ground, excitement filling his voice as he witnesses what I pull up. I lift the box over my head and expose it to the smiling prince, who claps in gratitude.

"Time to come up!" He exclaims, so much joy in his voice.

I tuck the box underneath my arm and attempt to lift my boots. But they don't budge. My entire leg doesn't dislodge. I try again, this time tugging on the rope to give myself further lift, but nothing moves.

My blood runs cold. The skull I found, the owner of it didn't die down here. They were sunken and suffocated in the sand. The more I try to set myself free, the more I sink. My heart begins to panic, racing uncontrollably, and I grapple for the stone wall but find no footholds.

"Renit!" I scream. When he doesn't show his face immediately, I scream again. Slowly, my legs will continue to sink with every second I thrash. A shadow appears over the edge of the well, Renit's concerned face looking down at me. "I can't move. It's sinking sand. I can't move." My words are laced with sobs that I can't control.

I grip onto the wall again, attempting to pull myself up but my palms slide along the slick stone and cut deep. "I'll try to pull you up," Renit says. From what I can see, he tightens his grip on the rope and begins to tug. Wrapping it around his back, he leans his weight into it and disappears.

The rope tightens around me, tugging up and cutting into my thighs and stomach. I try to hold out for as long as I can, the rough material slicing into my skin, but my legs don't shift. With all my strength, everything I have left, I try to lift myself out of my boots. I grit my teeth together, screaming through them. Nothing.

I'm stuck down here. "It didn't work!"

Out of frustration and fear, I try for the wall again. Blood runs down my arms from the open cuts in my palm and I only cause myself more pain by trying again. But the pain will not outlast the death I face if I don't make it out of here. This is why I didn't want Renit to retrieve this box, it's too dangerous. I wouldn't be able to pull him back up if that was our only option.

The sand is at my hips now and with every passing second, the water is getting closer. "Stay still!" Renit orders. "If you stay still, you won't sink."

I freeze, stopping my body from any movement other than breathing and the inevitable shaking. Still, the sand swallows me. "It's not working," I grit through my teeth.

"Dammit," he hisses. "I'm coming down there."

I whip my stare to him, immediately shaking my head. He can't come down here. If we're both stuck then no one will know we need help to get out. No one comes to this forest, if they do, it's not to visit the old well that swallows and kills its victims. We just happened to be stupid enough to ignore the warnings left behind by the original witches. There had to be something written, somewhere, about the sand. If I would have known, I wouldn't have stepped foot inside of this ancient well.

And I would have knocked Renit unconscious before he got the chance to do so himself. Never once, not even when I hated him, would I force the prince to come down here and risk his life. Retrieving this box might kill us both.

"Don't!" I shout. "We need to have someone up there, in case something goes wrong."

But it's too late, he's already climbing down with the extra rope tied around his body. A second rope, as he must have cut the first and tied what was left around a closer tree. What he is using now, it has to be too short to get him all the way down here.

Each one of his movements is careful as he gracefully makes his way down the wall of the well. He hovers over, reaching out a hand for me. He's out of rope. Our fingers barely touch and with every passing second, I'm sinking further and further into the sand. It won't be long before I'm out of air and have no choice but to gulp down the poisonous water.

"Take the box," I plead. I hold it above my head, towards his outstretched reach, but he forces it away.

"I don't want the box, Roux. Give me your hand." He reaches for me again and when I strain, I sink further. A weakened whimper escapes from my throat, one I've been trying to hide. I don't see an end to this. I don't see a happy ending to getting out of here.

"Renit, please." My voice cracks, and he pauses like the sound sends a shock wave through him. "Take the box and go find the final one in Lona. Please."

The prince immediately shakes his head. "If you think I'm stupid enough to leave you to die in a well, then you're wrong. I'm not leaving here without you." With one final lunge down, a quick jerk of his body, his hand closes around mine.

His skin is warm against my own and I laugh through the tears as he begins to tug with all his might. Through the pain, I grit my teeth. My wounds bleed and the red of my life stream drips down into the water that is seemingly closer and closer with each passing second.

Renit grimaces as I do the same. I try to bite down every scream that wants to leave my throat. "It's not working," I ground out. My shoulder burns, my entire arm is aching, and Renit finally releases.

Out of anger, he slams his hand against the wall of the well and curses. "I don't know what to do!" He growls.

Then, something clicks inside my mind. We need strength that doesn't belong to the body of witches. "The horses," I breathe.

Before I can explain my plan, Renit is climbing back up the well and kicking small rocks as he goes. He's moving fast enough to scrape the moss off the walls. "I'll be back," he stresses.

The cold water seeps into my waist and as he disappears over the edge of the well, I hope more than anything this will work. If it doesn't, I might as well start drinking the water now. Our last hope lies with the horses and if I pulled the skull out of the sand with my bare hands, the horses should have enough strength to pull me out.

Time slows down in the well when in reality, it's moving too fast for Renit. He seems to be gone for hours before his head appears again over the ledge of the well to ensure I'm still alive. I stick up a hand to him in a shaken wave and he smiles, relieved. "I'm going to tie the rope to the saddle. Hold on tight," he explains.

The lump in my throat makes it difficult to speak so I just clutch the box tight and hope for the best. This is going to hurt. The strength required to pull me out will tighten the rope around my legs and my waist, digging into my skin more than they already have. But it's our only shot.

Sooner than later, the rope begins to tighten. I squeeze my eyes shut as the pressure digs into my clothes. There isn't much move to breathe.

I can hear Renit urging the horse to keep pulling, even as the rope doesn't budge. The rope is now tight enough around my waist that I can't slip my hand into the space between my body. It's the only thing keeping me alive at the moment. My breathing turns shallow as I try to intake but find no room to do so.

But the horse keeps pulling and slowly—ever so slowly, my body begins to lift. "It's working!" I try to scream. With no breath, almost nothing comes out but if my luck stretches farther than it already has, Renit heard. "Keep pulling!"

The ropes dig into my body, drawing blood, and I wiggle around to help the process along. Groaning and scraping, the rope begins to stretch beyond its limit but that's when my body slowly breaks free and I'm lifted from the sand. I let out a cry of victory, rather a shrill sob, and grab onto the stone with cracked fingernails.

Clutching the box tight underneath my arm, I brace my hands against the cold stone. The tugs are slow but frequent enough that I have to protect myself from slamming against the wall. By the time I nearly reach the ledge of the well, my hands are bloodied and ruined. I can't discern my palm from the rest of the tattered skin.

I throw the box over my head and over the ledge, hopefully free of the hooves that are tugging me out. Grabbing onto the edge with what little strength I have, I relish in the warmth of the sun against my back. My arms shake as I pull myself up and over the edge of the well, collapsing onto the ground as all my energy gives out.

My power returns, a quick rush of a wave. I never want to find myself in a well again, I never want to think about going to the depths of a place that I'll never return from. If I could hug the ground then I would.

Hands are on me in a second, immediately untying the ropes from my body as I lean back, resting myself against the stone wall of the well. The ropes did draw blood in my thighs and burn my stomach, from the looks of it.

Renit examines my hands, finding the tattered flesh there, but doesn't focus on it long as he throws his arms around me, hugging tight. One of his hands finds its way to my hair, burying my face into his neck and the other cups my waist around the burn mark that would hurt against the company of any other. But with Renit, I don't feel the sting.