The men give me space, making sure not to touch me. I want to say thank you for the kindness, especially after Rion’s assault, but my throat is closed off and I know I won’t be able to utter a word.
I jump from the cart with a thud and follow Rune as he guides me through a hidden door. My feet trudge through the soggy mud and I quirk a smile thinking of my ruined skirt hem soaking whoever’s carpets these belong to.
The great home looks like Lord Velroy’s as far as I can tell, thanks to the time The Hidden and I spent studying the streets of Astoria. The door snaps shut behind us as Rune brings me to a room only furnished with a simple chair and small writing table. He leads me to the chair and shackles me to it and offers a plain smile before leaving and locking the door behind him.
I rest my forehead on the cool surface, thankful that the scratchy sack is no longer over my face. My shoulders stretch as my arms rest on the desk, above my head.
My mind wars with itself, torn between hope and acceptance, grief and anger. There’s a chance I can still be saved because damn the gods if they let this be my ending.
The thick culling bands rub viciously against my wrists and when I inspect further I notice my skin is raised and raw. I can’t imagine what damage they would cause if they were placed on someone longterm.
What would they feel like, when they wear through the skin with their weight? Perhaps I’d get first hand knowledge. They already null my magic, leaving a weird emptiness throughout my body. If only they could work as well on my thoughts, then maybe I’d not feel so plagued.
My thoughts return to Leeson and Caym. The taste in my mouth turns bitter when thinking how they hadn’t a chance to be bound before the goddess. I don’t even know what fate Caym met, if Leeson and The Hidden know of our failures to get the culling bands. If anyone had known we had walked straight into a trap.
I sit there, drumming my fingers against the cool writing table that looks far too unused as my thoughts fracture into chaos. The shadows of the high sun start to lengthen along the walls and I feel like I could almost make out silhouetted beasts as my weariness grows.
Footsteps in the hallway catch my attention. They sound heavy and like there’s more than one person. The doorknob jiggles as the brassy handle is turned.
Rune’s face is stony as he pushes through the opening. His tawny eyes look different than before when I witnessed him and The Devourer exchange their words. They look haunted and the way they linger on my face has me questioning what his meaning could be. He raises his brows slightly before lowering his chin in a small nod. It’s a warning. Bracing myself, I continue to stare at the door still partially closed before swallowing thickly.
He simply looks over where I’m still sat before shoving the door open the rest of the way. Behind him hoovers another man, the expression on his face etched with callousness.
My stomach drops.
Lord Velroy.
The gods must have a sick sense of humor afterall.
Calling it death would be too casual, too nonchalant. No, what I’m about to experience isn’t kind, it’s an injustice. The gods seem to have their backs turned to me and it’s maddening.
The sun is setting soon, the hours withered away as I’d been forced to sit and listen to Lord Velroy talk nonstop this afternoon. What shocked me was that Rune never left the locked room either, just hovered in the corner with the same expression he wears now—dutiful but etched with scorn.
It was torture enough to endure the sliminess of Rion Velroy’s magic and assault, but hearing someone be so boastful as well as exalted, well it was exhausting.
I was oddly relieved when Rune raised to his feet and began to lead me out of the confined room once more. My skin had crawled in places where Lord Velroy’s fingers had lingered when touching me whenever he’d discussed how important he was. I had bit my tongue numerous times to stop myself from screaming. Rune had watched him the whole time, ever so still. Not quite my protector, but also not willing to let me be alone with Lord Velroy. Why it was him stationed to guard me was beyond my understanding. For all I know, The Devourer and Nightmare had been tasked with something far more sinister.
Sudden panic blooms in my chest and my face blanches, the blood swiftly leaving. I hope he wasn’t somehow called away to deal with Lees or Caym.
Unsure of how to bring up the fate of my companions without being too suspicious, I blurt out, “Where did he… I mean…where did The Devourer go?”
“Kassiel?” Rune turns his face to address me. “He has a name, as I know you’re aware, and one that isn’t meant to be an insult.”
The words aren’t said harshly but instead make me feel like Rune would prefer me toseesomething in his companion.
“Addressing him as a person makes me feel like I’m betraying the ones I’ve lost and the people I continue to fight for.”
“Ah. There it is.”
Annoyance begins to curdle in my belly.
“What does that mean?” I quicken my pace as if I could somehow outrun him. “I’m too tired for these riddles and half spoken words.”
“Alora, you let your anger rule you. It festers inside and leaves little room for anything else.”
I don’t care what he has to say. Any understanding was gone as soon as my family burned. If he wants to believe anger is allthat resides in my withered husk, good. He hasn’t even seen a glimpse of the rage that consumes me.
Torment doesn’t begin to describe the way my insides crash against the overwhelming thoughts that rain down. I don’t know if it’s shock, avoidance, or just disbelief that I’m actually in my final moments that feel rather meaningless.
