The veydra is illuminated by the crackling fire, that strange, camouflaged cape draped over his shoulders. He stares at me. I stare back, refusing to flinch under the weight of his scrutiny. If I die, I die, but I’m sick and tired of being wrong.
“You’re brave,” he says, almost as an aside. “Most can’t bear to look at me.”
I scoff. “Get over yourself. I faced a scarier monster than you every day of my life for twenty years.” I bite my lip, cursing myself for revealing something personal.
He hums, and his gaze never leaves my face. “Killing is easy,don’t you think?” The question comes out of the blue, but I decide to roll with it. This faceless assassin is my only link to answers. He may speak in riddles and answer my questions with questions of his own, but I need to keep him talking. What other choice do I have?
“Depends,” I say.
“On what?” There’s a thread of tension in his voice. He sounds almost as desperate for my answers as I am for his.
I raise my eyebrows and blink, breaking our unnerving staring contest in the process. “On the kill. Taking a life can be too easy; it’s better when it’s hard.”
“Why?”
“If killing were always easy, there would be no value in living.”
“And if killing is always easy?” He scratches his chin, making the lines wobble. It’s a deliberately casual gesture. A visual lie to hide his absolute focus on me and this conversation.
“It isn’t,” I say. “Not for me, and not for you either.”
I’m guessing, giving him my best bluff. With my magic nullified, it’s the best I can do. But I know I’m right, and when the veydra clenches his fist, I feel a surge of victory. I’ve rattled him. Struck a nerve... if he even has those.
“Be ready to fight and kill by dawn. I don’t care if you find it hard or easy, but remember this: your life—and theirs—depends on it.”
He strides away without giving me a chance to respond, his tattered hood bouncing against his shoulders. The white fur is patchy and streaked with blood, and I smile in satisfaction at the slight hitch in his stride. I left a mark.
The door slams behind him. A bolt slides into place. Then something hums, first at the door, and then around my restraints. A heartbeat later, they unlock.
I throw them off and surge to my feet. Blood rushes to my head from the sudden movement, and black spots dot my vision as I pound my fists against the door. It doesn’t budge. Not when Idrive my shoulder into it. Not when I kick it. And certainly not when I scream at the spackled logs of the ceiling in fury.
I slide to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees.
Screaming won’t get me out of this; I need to think. The veydra was limping. That makes sense. We beat the shit out of each other and fell hard. I flex my muscles and take careful stock of my arms and legs. I’m hurting, but not as much as I should be after that fall.
Did he heal me?The thought is unsettling.
Pushing off the floor, I lay down on the narrow bed and stare at the flames. Luca, Alistair, Ciprian, and Malach—I’m going to get them out. If that means I have to kill every monster on this cursed rock, so be it.
This is a battle I’m unwilling to lose.
FIVE
Monster Realm Survival Tip #22:
Listen for whispers. Sometimes they hold the key to living another day.
CIPRIAN
The tank of fear inside me is gone. Not empty—like I’ve used up all my fuel and need to get more—but gone, as if someone cut me open and carved out the parts of me that I spent my whole life developing. Without magic, without the capacity to create nightmares, I’m just some guy, and I’m not sure I can handle that.
“It’s gone,” I gasp. “My magic. It’sgone.”
Wheezing, I bend at the waist and try not to pass out.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Luca claps me on the back. “There’s a magical dampener in here somewhere. Your magic isn’t gone, it’s blocked.”
“Celine,” I gasp, peering around the circular room frantically. “Where is she?”
