“Good.” He unwrapped his fingers from the merchant’s neck, drawing his dagger with his other hand. The merchant hunched over, gasping for air, rubbing at the harsh red line forming around his neck.
Dominic ushered the man into a storage room in the back of the shop and shoved him into a chair. With the flick of his wrist, vines materialized and wound themselves tightly around the merchant, tying his limbs and torso to the chair. He thrashed in the seat, skin turning red under his bindings.
“So,” Dominic started, knife twisting between lithe fingers, “I hear that you know where the Whisperer is.” The tip of his blade rested beneath the man’s chin.
The merchant shook his head, eyes squeezed shut in fear, lips pressed tightly to keep from quivering. “I-I don’t kn-know what you’re t-talking about,” he stammered.
Dominic rolled his eyes. “The Realm Fracturer.”
The merchant’s brown eyes shot open at the name of the ancient sword, confirming that he had the information Dominic was seeking.
“That—That’s a myth!” he blurted. “Just an old tale to give people hope. It sends fools like you on suicide missions!” His voice rose, cracking in terror.
Removing the blade from the man’s neck, Dominic flipped it once, then plunged it into his hand. Blood spattered as the knife tore through flesh and bone. Vibrations rattled up the hilt and into Dominic’s fingers as the knife buried into the arm of the wooden chair as well. The man shrieked in pain, fingers clenching around the arms of the chair, nails scoring the wood. A punch to the jaw abruptly cut off the scream. The merchant’s head whipped to the side with the force of the blow. A tooth flew to the floor.
“One,” Dominic began. He painstakingly twisted the knife inside the man’s hand. The King of Keys observed with satisfaction as blood dribbled down the merchant’s chin from biting his tongue to contain his screams. “Do not call me a fool. Two,” he continued, yanking the knife out with a sickening squelch. “You’re the one on a suicide mission by searching for the Realm Fracturerandtrying to keep it from me.” He lifted the dagger to the man’s face, tracing a flushed cheek with the bloodied tip. “Three,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You clearly don’t know who I am, else you’d be telling me what I want to know. So, I’ll give you one more chance now that you know I’m Dominic Nite.”
The merchant’s eyes widened, mouth agape. Dominic didn’t miss the wet spot blooming against the man’s trousers as he whispered, full of horror, “The Thief of Hearts.”
Dominic nodded. “Good, so you do know.” At the merchant’s hesitation to speak, Dominic thrust a boot into his chest, sending him and the chair toppling backward. It clattered to the floor, drawing a grunt from the man. Looming over him, Dominic propped a foot up on the edge of the chair, resting an elbow on his knee. Fear radiated throughout the room. “Now, tell mewhere I can find the Whisperer,” he demanded, shooting a harsh glare at the man beneath him.
“Please,” the merchant begged, tears streaming down his face as he struggled against his bonds. “I need it to save my wife and son. D-don’t take this away from me!” He was hysterical now, crying and pleading as if words would spare him.
“We all have someone to save,” Dominic murmured. He crouched down next to the man’s head. Red, puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and all the pleas that came from his bloodied lips would not put so much as a dent in the Thief of Hearts’s armor.
“I’ll give you anything else! You’re the King of Keys for gods’ sake. I’ve got plenty of keys!” he offered.
Remorse eluded Dominic. “I don’t want your pathetic keys,” he spat harshly. “I want answers.” Angling the dagger at the man’s eye, Dominic growled, “I may need the Whisperer’s eye intact, but I don’t need yours.” He carved two crossed lines over the man’s left eye. Blood gushed from the wound, staining his teeth scarlet as he cried out for help. “Talk, or I’ll take the other one.”
Finally, he began spewing answers. “The Whisperer is somewhere on the eastern continent!”
A satisfactory smirk tugged at Dominic’s lips. “Enfider?”
The merchant nodded in confirmation.
“Which kingdom?”
“In a forest just northwest of Gierok, there’s a cave. That’s where it resides.”
“And how do you know this?” Dominic interrogated, inching the knife closer once again. He had to make sure the information wasn’t misleading.
“I read about it in one of those books out there.” With a tied-down hand, he pointed a finger through the doorway to a bookshelf. “I found someone to translate it.” Words rushed fromhis bloody mouth, desperate to give the King of Keys the answers he wanted, anything to stop the pain.
“Anything else?” Dominic held the knife threateningly close to his other eye. The man pulled back, violently shaking his head, sweat-damp graying hair falling over his forehead.
Dominic considered the merchant. He didn’t believe the man was lying, for this was the same shop Dominic had found the tome that revealed the Realm Fracturer’s riddle, only the shop was under different ownership long ago. And if his search failed later on, or he needed more information, it would be beneficial to have the man alive.
But he’d seen Dominic’s face, and he might still try to forge the Realm Fracturer. “Just in case you get any ideas aboutlookingfor the Whisperer before I can get to it . . . ” Dominic carved another jagged line through the man’s other eye, then pried it from its socket, sending it rolling across the floor. Blood trailed in its wake followed by screams that rattled the precarious shop.
Dominic took the opportunity to reach into the man’s open mouth and slice off his tongue. Finally, he bashed both the merchant’s hands with the pommel of the dagger, bones crunching beneath the precise blows that mangled his fingers, leaving them broken and bent at odd angles. Now he’d never properly speak, hold a writing tool, or sign. The King of Keys would remain a faceless entity to the world.
Taking a step, the eye squished beneath his boot. The King of Keys ignored the man’s strangled sobs as he exited the shop and headed through the streets. Eyes flickered back and forth, settling on his blood-stained hands before darting away, content with ignoring him and returning to their own miserable lives.
Turning down a dark alley, Dominic pulled a pearl-sized clear orb from his pocket. Thinking of home, he crushed it in his palm and was instantly transported to the sandy beach of Andreilia.His features twisted as he spotted theValen Windanchored not far from shore.
Why would Lunard return to the island? The captain despised this place. The crew hoisted the anchor, preparing to set sail. A cloaked figure stood by the wood line, hand raised in salute to the captain before stepping into the shadowy jungle.
Dominic’s lips twitched in amusement, eager to hunt down whoever dared to step onto his island.
