By the time I reached the cell, my breath had evened out, my hands were no longer shaking, and not a single hair was out of place. ‘Open the door!’ The command came from the lips of the Deadly Nightshade. With one look at my haughty expression, the guard complied. ‘Leave us.’ I didn’t look back; they wouldn’t dare defy me. The only noise in the room was a nervous shuffling as the guards left.
My breath misted in the frigid air, and despite wearing thick clothing, a shiver covered my skin with goosebumps. The chamber was the ideal temperature for preserving a body, slowing the rot of damaged tissue, and prolonging aninterrogation. It wasn’t cold enough to cover the walls with ice, but the moist air condensed into droplets that fell to the ground with maddening irregularity.
Tymon hung from chains attached to the ceiling, his body trembling so violently that the chains rattled, yet his sweat dripped onto the stone floor. The guards had stripped his shirt away, leaving him half-naked. His powerful, corded muscles tensed repeatedly under the strain he exerted, struggling to break free from my poison.
His eyes widened, feet scrambling backwards as I approached. Once untouchable, the Mule Chapter Master now tracked my every move, his gaze lingering on the vambraces. With deliberate slowness, I unfastened the buckles, revealing an array of needles. My fingers brushed over them until I allowed them to linger over one coated in a dark, oily substance. I held it up to the light.
‘We have two hours, and I don’t have time to play games. If you want to escape this room with all your faculties, then you have a decision to make.’ I sauntered over, grabbed a handful of Tymon’s dense brown hair, and tilted his head. His throat bobbed repeatedly as I sank the silver pin into his neck, waiting for the antidote to neutralise my poison.
A rattling sound escaped his throat, and intense pain widened his pupils.Oh yes, I know it hurts, I thought, sitting in the only chair. Then, I waited.
Fifteen precious minutes passed before he regained control of his body. His recovery time was impressive. When he started testing the strength of his manacles. I raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t waste your energy.’ I smirked, observing his efforts. ‘Stronger men than you have tried.’
His stare burned a hole in my skull, fear and hatred mixing with reluctant respect before he uttered a single word. ‘Why?’
I tilted my head. ‘Why what?’
‘Why let me live? Boyan’s planned to remove me for quite some time, yet my heart is still beating, so why?’ The uncertainty in his voice made me shrug as I left his question unanswered. Tymon’s jaw clenched as I leaned forward, coming so close I could smell yesterday’s meal on his breath and the sour odour of fear in the sweat that coated his torso.
‘I don’t like throwing out something useful? Or maybe I’ve learned mercy for those of us Jagon’s schemes have used up and spat out,’ I said as he flinched.
‘You’ve always been weak, and you’re stupid. No one manipulated me.’ His riposte made me chuckle.
‘So you knew what Tivala was doing with the srebrec? Interesting. As for being weak… look where it’s led me, while your new bracelets are the height of fashion,’ I said, tapping the manacles. ‘Your arrogance is misplaced, Tymon. I told you I have no time for games, so don’t make me reconsider leaving you to my father’s justice.’
The bastard tried to spit on me, but I slapped him so hard the rancid saliva splattered on his feet. Tymon’s cheek turned a bright shade of red, and he snarled in my face. I pointed to the bench behind me. Torture devices and vials of poison reflected the light, a silent threat that wormed its way into his mind.
I waited, patient and unflinching, until he looked at me again, this time with a cold calculation in his eyes. ‘So what now, Nightshade?’
‘Now you’ll die by my hand during the general assembly,’ I said, observing his reaction. ‘The question is, will you stay dead?’
He remained silent, lips tightening as his head turned away, but the slight tilt of my prisoner’s head told me he was listening. He was listening very carefully. ‘You can revive me?’ he finally asked, frowning when I shook my head.
‘No. I’m a mage, not a miracle worker, but my poisons are very versatile and can fool everyone into thinking you’re dead,’ I said,continuing after his nod. ‘The deal is simple. I need your maps. Not the ones stored in the Mule’s office, but your personal maps. The safest route to Tivala’s castle, the blueprints of the castle itself, road patrols, and monster lairs. Everything.’
‘Should I also chop my cock off and serve it to you on a silver platter? Those maps are worth a king’s ransom,’ he said, grinding his teeth in frustration.
‘Are they worth more than your life?’ I asked, rolling my eyes. ‘Stop acting like you have any power; you’re smarter than that. You’ll tell me where Ernesto hides his documents and describe everything you know about his guard schedule. Then, once I’m done, you’ll help me escape.’
I outlined the terms in plain language, with no threats and no room for misunderstanding. Tymon looked at me for a long moment, disbelief flashing over his features, before he burst out laughing.
‘You don’t ask for much, do you? And what guarantee do I have that you’ll let me live after all that, hmm? Like father, like daughter; you’re both manipulative bastards.’ He spat at my feet.
‘Should I take that as your refusal?’ I said, turning my back on him.
‘No! Fuck… Stop!’ The muscles in his jaw trembled with unbridled hatred. ‘Fine. But you swear I’ll live. I want out of this damn city, and enough coin in my pocket to live a long time. That’s the deal.’ Even in chains, he still tried to strike a bargain. Still, letting him believe he had some negotiation power was useful for me, at least for now.
‘You’ll survive; you have my word,’ I said with a smirk, coming closer. ‘Don’t move if you want to live.’ I placed my palm on his chest, right above his heart. His aether called to me, vibrant with strength and stubbornness. I closed my eyes and studied his energy pattern, memorising the true face of the Mules’ Master.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked, fixated on my green, glowing fingers as they traced a faint tattoo on his skin.
‘Saving your life and ensuring you can’t betray me,’ I said, letting my magic flow through the sigil. ‘Now tell me about Jagon. Should I expect another visit?’
‘I doubt it. The damn fool overplayed his hand.’ I looked at him sharply, and Tymon smirked. ‘Jagon is in Tivalaran,’ he said, leaning against the wall as if he were getting himself comfortable. ‘He’s not exactly a prisoner there, but Tangra’s preceptor is keeping him on a tight leash.’
‘Oh? Why?’ I asked.
‘You.’ His smirk sent shivers down my spine. ‘With Jagon, it is always you. Apparently, Ernesto learned you have a unique talent, and his Tangrean friends weren’t happy Jagon hid it.’
