‘Not this one. This is personal,’ Tivala said, and for a moment, both men stood there, silently measuring their resolve.
‘We’ll see. Have fun for now, but if you kill her, the Hierophant will hear of it,’ the preceptor said, gesturing to someone behindhim. ‘And don’t be stupid. Put a collar on her, before the power she wields can be used again.’
A man approached, but when I saw what he was holding, I jerked to the side. I didn’t care about pain or the damage the bolt caused to my body. Tivala laughed, seeing my desperate effort to crawl away. My dignity, my pride – neither mattered, because I recognised the collar and the scream tore from my throat.
I fought, clawing at his hand, thrashing until several men had to pin me down. All for nothing. Before my vision faded, I felt it, felt my magic cut off, leaving behind a yawning absence in my soul.
And the icy touch of an augurec collar as it took away my magic.
Chapter 33
Roksana
Chains rattled when a shiver shook my body.Stay still,I thought, using the slimy stone wall behind my back as the one constant to centre myself.
‘Wake up, mage. We haven’t finished talking.’ The voice of my torturer was jovial, relaxed, and fucking annoying.
Cold water splashed against my face, dripping down until a tiny amount gathered at the corner of my mouth. It carried the coppery taste of my blood mixed with the grime from my skin, but that didn’t deter me. I tilted my head to the side, and the droplets slid down into my mouth. My parched tongue lapped up the moisture, giving me temporary respite.
It was the only way to stay alive in this shithole, and I was determined to survive.
How long has it been since I woke up here?Not that I could count the days in this windowless dungeon, where moisture condensed on the walls and smoke from burning torches filled the air with the stench of soot. The only things that changed were the temperature and the faces of the men who came to torture me.
‘You’ve had two days, and you still can’t get a straight answer from her. Go on, wake her up. She’d better be coherent this time, or you’ll be joining her,’ Tivala said, sitting on a metal chair in the corner. His men tossed another bucket of water over me while he muttered something about the preceptor and his demands.
More to drink, a few more hours stolen from the goddess of fate before she severs my thread.Two days… I swear it was longer.
A bloody bubble burst on my lips when I huffed with bitter laughter. How long would I hold out before they dragged a truthseeker down to rip the information from my mind? They might find the schemata, but Inga would be long gone.
Jagon had prepared me well for this moment. I couldn’t believe I had to thank him for that, even if he’d never intended to. When they beat me, I recalled my teacher’s “punishments” and let my mind drift to the orcish steppe. I sang peasants’ songs, as my spirit flew to a place where no pain or humiliation could touch me.
When no part of my body was left unbruised, Tivala changed his tactics. He stripped me, letting his men take turns at breaking my spirit. He watched it all with a satisfied smirk, but I endured. I lay there and remembered the smiles of my family, his smirk as meaningless as the sneer that replaced it.
Hatred radiated from him when he ordered them to do it again and again, his breeches tenting each time I screamed. Ernesto Tivala, just like his perverted son, loved to see women suffer. Yet he didn’t seem satisfied. As if he couldn’t accept that while he could kill me, he could not break me.
‘Are you hoping to disappoint me, Roksana?’ I heard Tivala’s footsteps before he grabbed my hair, yanking my head up.
I grinned, showing him my blood-stained teeth, then gathered my newfound moisture and spat in his face. ‘Aren’t you worriedabout your daughter?’ I asked, regretting the loss of what little saliva I had. ‘How long do you think the king will keep her alive if I die?’
‘You really think she matters?’ He pulled out an embroidered handkerchief and wiped his face. ‘Her only value was bearing that bastard’s child. She can console Reynard after you’re gone, for all I care. You, however, will tell me what you did with the fae script, or I’ll let the Tangreans break your spirit.’ He hammered his fist so hard into my belly that it left me gasping for breath, but I kept smiling.
Be the willow that bends but never breaks.My mother’s voice repeated in my mind like a distant memory. I let myself drift away, just a little, enough to dull the pain so I could speak.
‘Like father, like son. Poor Ignac. No wonder he couldn’t get hard until he hurt his women,’ I said, giggling maniacally at my own joke. He pulled his fist back to strike when I looked straight into his widened pupils and sneered. ‘I enjoyed watching him scream.’
Is this it? Have I finally pushed him into killing me?I shouldn’t have said it, but gods, it warmed my heart when Tivala paled, clutching his chest. My useless, petty revenge, and yet it tasted sweeter than any water.
‘You’ll be nothing but dust when I’m done with you,’ he said, his face twisted by rage and grief. ‘Cut off her hair. Let’s see how proud she is after being sheared like a fucking sheep.’
I swallowed hard, eyeing the scissors. The cruel sound of Tivala’s laughter reverberated between the walls, growing louder when I jerked my head, determined not to show how this affected me.It’s just hair; it’ll grow back.
My braid was like my mother’s, my legacy, my memory of her. That’s why I kept my hair long when most of the Brotherhood women cut theirs short, to keep it from getting in the way.Somehow, this felt worse than being beaten, as if with each falling strand, he stripped me of who I was.
‘Shear me? What, you need a wig that badly?’ I said, fighting panic when I saw my braid fall onto the dirty floor.
Hatred is dangerous for people like us. It kills more in the Brotherhood than failure. However, when you’re already facing death, it can keep you alive long past any other emotion.It was Boyan’s voice this time, calm and measured.Love can reshape the world, but so can hatred. They are two sides of the same coin, so embrace it, accept it, and use it when you have to.
Tivala’s smile grew wider at my distress, blind to the change inside of me. The hatred, the all-consuming need to destroy his world and watch him suffer, hardened, fuelling my power, and for a fleeting moment, I could almost touch it despite the augurec collar.
