A dull, throbbing pain settled in Hugo’s skull, pulsing in time with his ragged breaths. His body screamed in protest, muscles weak, his skin slick with sweat and blood. The chair beneath him felt unstable, the ropes around his wrists biting into his flesh. Every inch of him ached—his ribs, his arms, his busted lip and the knife wound on his thigh. The metallic tang of blood coated his tongue.