Daed lowers his sword and stalks forward. He reaches out, and the rune wall sparks when his fingers graze its surface. I expect him to cut through it, or even void walk and manifest on the other side, but he does neither. I do not know enough about this magic to understand its laws, so I can only assume both are impossible. Instead, he turns to bargaining, and when he speaks, his voice is a rough and ragged growl from deep in his chest.
“Lower your wall and I will let you both live.”
Modok’s men tremble as they look at each other, neither wanting to be the first to respond.
“This wall will not last long. Surrender now and you keep your heads, but if you do not, and that wall falls, I will send you back to Mor’Thravar in pieces.”
Even from across the room, I see a lump lodge in the men’s throat as they gulp.
“Do we have your word?” one stutters, his hand wavering.
A low rumble passes through Daed’s lips and I hear the contempt in his voice. “Yes.”
Again, Modok’s men exchange anxious glances, but then they slowly lower their hands, and the barrier protecting them shimmers to nothing. They drop to their knees in unison, and with their heads bowed they do not see Daed vanish in a burst of black smoke, only to reappear behind the leftmost man. He drives Death Singer through his back with such force it bursts through his chest, the silver point glinting as it drips scarlet blood.
The Mor’Thravar on the right yells hysterically, scurrying across the floor, huddled in fear.
“You gave your word, Prince Daedalus!”
Daed withdraws his blade with chilling apathy, and a wave of smoke sweeps the man away before he hits the floor.
“I owe nothing to fucking traitors who dare evenlookat my wife,” Daed snarls.
The prince raises his sword once more, but when he drives it towards the surviving henchman, the blade sparks against a rune barrier. The man holds his hands above him, his face burning red and his jaw clenched as he musters enough strength to absorb Daed’s blow. He manages to clamber to his feet, maintaining the barrier as he staggers backwards towards the door.
“I was only following orders,” he protests. “It is my duty to serve my lord.”
Daed takes a feline step towards the man, toying with him, and I almost feel sorry for him.
For his sake, I hope Daed’s killing blow is swift. Suddenly the doors burst open and with one fluid strike, Arax relieves the Mor’Thravar warrior of his head. It falls to the ground, landing with a squelching thud that makes me clutch my stomach and lurch.
The fury staining Daed’s face does not fade with the last warrior dispatched. His upper lip draws back, and he bares his canines at Arax. “Where. Were. You?”
Arax bows his head and drops to a knee. “My Prince. I had retired for the night. I did not…”
“You are supposed to protect her,” Daed roars. “Amara could be dead.Where were you!”
He thrusts his hand forward, shooting tendrils of smoke at Arax which coil around his throat. Arax gasps, clawing at his neck, but the more he fights, the more the coils tighten. I take slow cautious steps towards Daed. He is a man possessed, andto approach him carelessly, after what I have seen him do, could cost me my life.
“Daedalus,” I whisper, my hand inching towards his shoulder.
He does not hear me, or if he does, he does not respond, his outstretched fingers curling into a fist, the noose of smoke squeezing Arax’s neck even tighter.
“Daed,” I say. My hand rests on his shoulder, his shirt soaked through with rain. “Husband.”
Daed’s hand wavers and his head jerks as if my voice has broken through the noise. He turns to look at me, and I watch as the black melts away from his eyes, revealing the gray beneath.
“Amara,” he mutters. His disoriented gaze soon falls upon the slash across my neck, and his eyes widen as he awakes from his frenzied trance. “Amara,” he says again.
Daed releases Arax who falls forward, sucking in all the oxygen his lungs can take while Death Singer turns to smoke in Daed’s grasp. He quickly closes his hand around mine, pulling me closer to him while his other hand hovers over my wound, weary of touching it. Then he notices the cut ribbon of my nightgown, his eyes flooding with rage when they fall upon my exposed skin. His teeth grit. “What have they done to you? Did they…” his voice turns ragged before he can finish.
I shake my head. “Nothing happened, and this is just a scratch.” I fear Daed will go to that dark place again, that I will lose him to the abyss… to the void. I cup his face in my hands and turn his gaze to meet my eyes. “Daed,” I say sternly, calling him back to me. “I amfine.”
His eyes close, and he leans into my touch as if he’s starving for my warmth. “Amara,” he mutters.
A sputtering cough followed by a raspy laugh breaks the moment of calm.
“Pathetic,” murmurs Modok as he sits slumped against the wall, blood seeping through the fingers pressed to his wound. “You are no prince. You are this human’s doting pup.”
