I pull up my mental barriers as much as I can, this time to lock myself away from the torment. From the sound of the whip. From the feel of my skin being slit open and blood coursing down my back, seeping into the waistband of my trousers. I never cry out, but my throat feels raw as though I’ve been screaming, and my body grows heavier and heavier. Until I silentlybegmy consciousness to flee.
I’m not sure how many lashes I take, but my body eventually gives in to the overwhelming anguish and I black out at last.
The first scream builds in my chest and rips free from my throat before I even open my eyes. I’m on my stomach, but as I move my hands to grapple for my searing back, something digs into my skin. My eyes are too bleary to make out anything, but it’s clear that my wrists are still bound. The pungent scent of herbs fills my nostrils, pulling nausea from my gut. I dry heave, and the pain nearly tips me back into unconsciousness. A voice I don’t recognize says, “Deep breath. In through your nose. I’m almost done here.”
Obeying, I take a deep breath through my nose. Again, and again until the nausea subsides, but the pain in my back comes and goes in waves. Icy cold undulates across my skin, causing first more pain, then relief.
The surface beneath me is soft. I curl my fingers, and they bunch in crisp sheets. When I open my eyes again, there’s only white fabric. I lift my head as best as I can and vaguely make out bright white curtains and other cots in a line.
The infirmary.
I’d expected to wake up in the brig.
“Almost there,” says that voice again. I strain my neck to get a better look at her. Dark eyes focus on my back, her face reflecting the glow from her hands. A Mage Healer openly practicing. In Paramount.
Well, I’ve seen everything now.
At last, the woman shifts to stand behind me, grey hair falling onto her shoulder. “There,” she says.
My body is exhausted, but I allow my senses to reach out for her magic. I’m met with something that reminds me of Alys’spowers, but far darker. A Dark Mage Healer? Is it possible? My mind must still be shrouded from the pain.
“Ah, he’s awake,” says a voice that causes my heart to lurch painfully.
My head snaps to the other side as Rheon marches into the infirmary, Lynx in tow. My healing back protests my sudden movement, and I grit back a groan.
“I’ve been told you didn’t even cry out once,” says Rheon. “Very impressive. Next time, I will ensure that they don’t stop until you scream for mercy. Or the next time. Or the next.”
My throat spasms, but my stomach is completely empty. My body is too spent for me to even come up with something witty to say. Especially when it’s frighteningly clear why Rheon ordered that I be healed.
“You’re going to do this until I break,” I say with certainty.
“You’ve always been a brilliant soldier. I’ve seen many talented fighters in my day, but not everyone is as intelligent as you are, Major Kilkenny.” He smiles, squatting so that he’s face-to-face with me. “Do you remember when you received that title? Major? I can still remember the pride on your face. You could’ve been commander someday.” He tsks and stands upright again. “How would you like to regain your title as major to start? The Zenith really could use a brilliant fighter such as yourself.”
“No,” I grit out.
“Suit yourself.” He looks to the Healer woman. “Is he able to return to the brig now?”
“Yes, I’m finished with him,” she responds, and I almost want to beg her to let me stay longer.
“Perfect. Lynx, have some broth brought to him. Nothing more.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
He turns on his heel and marches out of the infirmary. Lynx, however, struts toward me. “Come along, pretty boy. The brig isgetting lonely without your presence.” She begins to work at the ropes around my wrists and forces me to sit up.
My skin feels stiff, pulling unpleasantly and sending small ripples of discomfort through my back. But I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the cot. My vision sways and I close my eyes.
Lynx yanks my arm up and I open my eyes to see her staring at the sword tattoo inked into my forearm. She doesn’t say anything, however. She only pulls me to my feet and vanishes us back to the brig.
I land rather hard on my ass and bite back a small cry. I place my hands flat against the cool floor beneath me and struggle to remain upright. Lynx crouches down in front of me, holding an almost black, double-edged blade before my face. “Do you like my new toy?” She asks, her husky voice filled with amusement.
As best as I can, I remain absolutely still. There’s no way in hells that I want that blade to touch my skin.
“You won’t believe how much effort went into forging such a blade. Mind-boggling, really.” She makes a small humming sound of satisfaction then says, “Not that I forged it myself, of course.” With a giggle, she stands upright and sheaths her dagger. “Have you heard the screams? In the night? Reminds me of the horror stories my parents read to me as a child. You know, to scare me into behaving like a lady, no doubt.”
My brows pinch together.
“Do they give you nightmares, pretty boy? The screams?”
