Suddenly, the great doors slammed open with a crash. Cold, stale air spilled into the throne room as multiple Skell men dragged a long, thin figure.
They dropped the body at the base of the throne like a pitiful offering. The man crumpled forward. Bright orange hair, matted with dark patches of dried blood, clung to his pale skin.
Slowly, he sat up. A blood-drained face lifted, stitched from mouth to cheek in a cruel, smiling wound. A single bead of fresh blood slipped down as the maniacal grin widened.
Long arms flung out in a dramatic sweep, head bowing low.
“My King! What an honor this is! They call me Happy Jack. The Poisoner, the—” His melodically mocking voice cleaved in two as the Skell guard slammed a heel into his back. The force sent him splattering forward in a vicious thud.
“You will not speak to the King unless spoken to!” the Skell growled.
A laugh bubbled up, soft at first, then built into a sharp, feral cackle. It echoed through the bone-riddled chamber. Still trembling with laughter, he pushed his thin frame upward, rising from the ground in slow defiance.
“Aemon.” The name was a threat, drawn out on the Skell King’s tongue like a hex. Happy Jack—infamous for his crafted toxins and for leading a rebellion—went silent, flinching at the use of histruename. “Unless you want me to feast on your insides while your heart still beats, listen closely.” The King bared his teeth in a sinister smile as he bent closer.
“Give it to him,” the King commanded.
Two Skell guards moved at once. One pinned Happy Jack’s arms back, the other forced a dark-glass vial against his lips. The liquid slid down with a choking gasp.
“Compliments to your latest creation,” the Skell King murmured, taunting. “I think I’ll call it—theLaughing Leash.”
Happy Jack’s limbs jerked violently, muscles locking tight in grotesque spasms. Strained gurgles slipped past his lips as white bubbling froth spilled out.
The Skell King smirked, satisfied in witnessing the famous poisoner choke on his own brew. Petrifying joy curled his lips as the Laughing Leash began its cruel work—binding body and soul.
Slowly, the tension eased from Happy Jack’s body. He sagged back on his heels, shuddering.
“What is that saying?” he wheezed, voice trembling. “A taste . . . of my own medicine . . .” His cheek twitched.
The Skell King growled, knuckles cracking as he gripped the bone-wrought throne.
“First,” the Skell King seethed, “you will finally tell me where yourScarecrow Rebelsare.” His tar-black tongue clicked against his teeth. “Then, by whatever means necessary—you will bring her to me.Alive.”
Happy Jack grinned wildly, breath still unsteady.
Bowing low, he lifted his eyes to the throne.
“As you wish,my King.”
25
CARWYNN
No,not darkness. Literally cloaked in…a cloak.
Huh?
I looked up, stunned. The towering figure loomed, keeping me entirely hidden behind the garment and his broad body. One hand braced against the wall behind me, semi-boxing me in. Close enough to put me on edge, yet he wasn’t touching me at all. My height barely reached his chin. I angled my eyes upward and stilled.
Unusual neon eyes stared back it me. They almost looked like molten metal.
His face was sharp, tanned, and possibly handsome—if not for the menacing glare. A scar slashed from the bridge of his nose down to the left side of his chin. A deep enough mark that carried a story.
Long hair fell over a shoulder in intricate braids, but his ears—woah. I’d never seen anything like them. Definitely not like the dainty, pointed ones the Si had, these were more elongated, almost animalistic.
“How do you see me?” The words rolled off in a deep, rough accent I didn’t recognize.
I blinked.
