Fiza snapped her head towards her. Could she lie her way out of this?
“If it’s a part of the Rhodean queen’s treasury, and you have no love for your homeland, then why do you always fret we will discover the owner of the amulet?Whenever you think of the amulet, you worry that someone will be in danger.” Maud was too quick for her.
“I swear it! The queen has it.” Elizabeth faintly hoped the queen’s army and her guards at the palace would be enough to keep out any demons who came to call.
Maud undid one of her wrists, then the other. Freed, she made it a single step before Maud clamped a freakishly strong hand around her wrist.
Fiza joined in, and the two of them quickly overpowered her. She struggled against the two demons for a moment, but they forced her to the ground, spread-eagled. Fiza held her down while Maud leered in her face, brandishing the silver knife.
“I think you’re a nasty little liar. Tell me where it is, or we’ll make you wish you were dead.”
Her heart sank.
Her time was up, and no one was coming.
I can’t give up Charlotte.
Elizabeth’s brows drew together and she looked at the ceiling.
They’ve already gotten my parents, and now me—I can’t let my last act in this world be setting monsters on a friend.
Without her, no one knew where the amulet was, and it would stay lost forever.
A tear slid down her cheek.
After she was gone, maybe the witch from the prophecy—whoever it really was—would be able to banish demons from their world, and whatever horrible plan Fiza and Maud had hatched would never come to fruition.
Elizabeth stared at the ceiling resolutely. “I’ve told you what I know.”
Helplessly, she felt the knife pierce her flesh like butter. The sharp blade slid into her arm and carved a line, white hot with agony. A whimper escaped her lips.
A tongue slid over her arm, wet and cold. Claws pierced her skin to hold her in place while Maud lapped at the wound. Maud smirked at her, her thin lipless smile painted red with her blood.
“Please,” she begged, but no one was listening.
The blade caressed her little finger. Her breathing grew laboured, her body begging her to do anything to stop it. She yanked at her wrists that Fiza had pinned, but the demon held firm.
Tears of pure terror welled in the corner of her eyes.
Something sharp slid into her finger, and the scream that erupted from her lips broke her completely.
There was no beginning or end to her pain; nothing existed but the searing pain in her finger. She screamed and screamed, but the hall was quiet.
No one was coming.
She tried to move her hand, but it was in agony. Her fingers slid against each other, slick with blood.
Tears streamed down her face. She heard a cold, cruel laugh before what felt like a hot iron pressed upon her finger, and she blacked out.
When she came to, she was vaguely aware of being forced into a chair and her hands being tied behind her back.
Her finger ached sharply. She gently brushed her finger with her other hand, fearing the worst, and was alarmed to feel that the digit felt short, and the tip of her pinky felt crusted over with blood. Bile rose in her throat as she realized why it felt shorter than the rest.
Elizabeth grimaced at the idea of having to endure anything like that ever again.
The price for bravery might break her.
She wouldn’t be able to withstand another bout of that.
