“Didhegive you that?”
“No, he didn’t.” She hastily tucked it back underneath her shirt. “My father gave it to me. It has nothing to do with Hallix.”
“More lies?” Nalyx stalked forward, a deceptively gently finger tugging the gem out from beneath her shirt again. “Let’s take a look. Obsidian?” His voice was a smooth purr, carrying an undertone of barely-controlled rage. “Fuck me, that would have been expensive. Not too expensive for Hallix, though, was it? A nice little deposit to show you what else he can buy for you?” His fist tightened around the gem, his face scant inches from her own, a sneer curving his lips. Gantalla’s heart was racing in her chest. She needed to get his hand off the necklace, but how to do that without accidentally breaking it? What could she say that would calm him down?
“If you’re going to trade yourself for wealth and privilege, then at least be honest about who you are,” Nalyx sneered. “Because I, for one, can see straight through you.” With that final pronouncement, he yanked the necklace off her throat, the fragile clasp no match for his strength.
The rush of magic leaving her made Gantalla’s blood run cold. She felt the tingle in her fingers as her claws emerged, felt her tail uncoil beneath the fabric of her skirt. And her hand, abortively reaching out towards him, flashed from brown to pale green. She froze, unable to move, as a terror like nothing she’d ever known flooded through her. He was going to kill her. She was going to die, here, today.
Nalyx’s jaw dropped, his eyes opening almost comically wide. “What the fuck…?” he muttered, then rubbed his eyes, as if that would clear them of the sight in front of him.
The seconds ticked by, and both of them simply stood there, frozen in shock. Gantalla was terrified that anything she said or did might set him off. His sword was just a few feet away, resting against the wall. It would take him all of two seconds to draw it and stab her through the heart.
But Nalyx didn’t move, save for his eyes roaming slowly down over her body. And perhaps they would have stood there forever, but for a knock at the door. “Nalyx? Gantalla? Everything okay?” It was Geron, the guard from the armoury. He was too old to fight anymore, so he spent his days maintaining the warriors’ supplies instead. “I heard shouting.”
Gantalla said nothing, waiting for Nalyx to denounce her, to reveal her evil presence to Geron. And if Nalyx couldn’t manage to kill her, Geron would willingly do it for him. An untrained woman would hardly be a challenge for even a retired warrior.
The obsidian gem dangled from Nalyx’s fingers, glinting as it swayed slightly. Gantalla found the movement to be strangely hypnotic.
“Nalyx?” Geron called again.
Finally, Nalyx spoke. But what he said shocked Gantalla almost more than his snatching her necklace had done. “Everything’s fine,” he said, not taking his eyes off Gantalla. “It’s okay.”
“Gantalla?” Geron called, apparently not willing to take Nalyx’s word for it. “Are you okay?”
Finally, Nalyx moved. He handed the gem back to her, and Gantalla snatched it, quickly fastening it around her neck. “I’m okay,” she called loudly. She pressed her hand over the gem and muttered the spell the witch had taught her. A moment later, she was back in human form, her claws retreating, her tail vanishing. With one more wary glance at Nalyx, she finally dared to move, going to the door and opening it before Geron decided to just barge inside.
“We’re fine,” she said to Geron, who was standing there with a deep frown on his face. “We were just arguing. But it’s all okay. Thank you for your concern.”
Geron shot a cool look Nalyx’s way. “You wouldn’t want to harm a woman, now, would you?” he asked pointedly. “A warrior such as yourself has standards to live up to, after all.”
“Of course not,” Nalyx said, his voice sounding strangled. He cleared his throat. “It was just an argument. That’s all.”
“Fair enough.” Geron glanced at Gantalla again. “Feel free to call, if you need anything.” He closed the door again, and Gantalla listened to the sound of his footsteps walking away. She turned back to Nalyx, who still hadn’t moved.
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked. The idea terrified her, but it was better to know the truth.
Nalyx swallowed hard. “What are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.
Gantalla felt a tear slide down her cheek. “In my world, we’re called the hadathmet. We’re not demons. We’re just people trying to escape a dying world and find a better life in a new one.”
“What do you want with us?”
“Nothing. Just somewhere to live in peace.” There was a moment of silence. “Are you going to kill me?” Gantalla asked again.
“No,” Nalyx said, his eyes once more roaming over her figure.
Maybe she shouldn’t ask, but she found she couldn’t help herself. He was behaving so strangely – for all that his hesitation was currently keeping her alive. “Not that I’m not grateful, but… why not?”
“I watched you save the life of a five year old boy right in front of me.” Nalyx looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time in minutes. “No one who does that could possibly be a demon.”
There were so many questions swirling in her mind. Was he going to report her to the captain? Tell the hospital staff? Or, if he didn’t believe she was evil, would he be willing to speak to the rest of the warriors and actually suggest they find a different way to deal with the flood of refugees at the gate?
But as she tried to get her thoughts in order, to voice just one single question, she found she’d run out of time. “Get out of my room,” Nalyx said, his voice cold. “I never want to see you again.”
To do anything else was pure foolishness, so, with her heart still in her throat and her eyes leaking shameful tears, Gantalla turned and let herself out, closing the door gently behind her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
