"I'm going to hide you so deep in spaces in between nothing, that he'll have to claw through stars to find you." His voice trembles around the edges. "By the time he finds you, you'll denounce him so fast it'll make that fuckers head spin."
I smile grimly. "Good thing I can't die." And I drink.
The potion is cold fire down my throat. It hits my stomach like a lightning strike, the world tilting, folding in on itself. Ambrose lunges for me with a snarl, but I'm already falling—falling away from him, away from the room, the air, the world—he grunts, soft hands under my body and then everything goes black.
Chapter thirty-eight
Can't Hide Anymore
Athanasius
Sand—beetred.A sunset slicing the sky open in strokes of dying gold and deepening blood. And here I sit, draped in black, seated upon a throne of bone. My throne. Bleached and jagged and absurdly luminous against the crimson dust.
In front of me, my sniveling servant gestures like he's handing me the elixir of life. “Master,” he says with reverence he hasn’t earned, “she may not be your consort, but she is a salve for now. An eager follower of yours, someone to take the sting off. I promise, every desire she will fulfill.”
He twirls her like a doll, her hair catching in the last rays of sun. She’s draped in a black mini dress, its silk clinging like it resents her. Her eyes are glossed with something like trust. Or stupidity. I can't tell the difference anymore. I sit, one leg draped over the other on bone, watching. The sand whispers in my ears and my patience is unraveling.
“For my amusement?” I say slowly, every word drawn out like silk soaked in poison.
He nods like an idiot. I sigh. Then I reach with a flick of thought and turn her skin inside out. She hits the ground screaming, a sound that warps the air. Her limbs thrash like some broken marionette, nerves singing, mouth gurgling with red froth. The sand drinks.
The old man gasps — shocked. Good. He’s forgotten who I am.
I rise, and even the sky seems to shrink. “Does it look like I need amusement?” I say, each word a blade as I bring myself to stand in front of the fool, towering over him. “Some cheap thrill? I want my consort. And you… are bothering me.”
Then the light bends — and she steps through. The witch. She walks a dagger in hand, gaze cool, unwavering. She glances at the broken girl without flinching, then back to me. “Fix her,” she commands.
“No.”
“Now,” she says again, like thunder behind lace, “or I will not help you. I will not let you torture someone innocent.”
“She danced with death and got her wish,” I snarl. “Why do you care?”
But before she can answer, another presence slides down a nearby dune. Moireth, ever composed, always the diplomat. Caspian grins behind her, full of jokes he hasn't told yet. “Brother,” Moireth says, soft but firm. “Please.”
I exhale through my nose, flick my wrist. The girl knits back together, quivering, puddling herself on the sand. Alive. Unworthy. Terrified. Good.
The witch opens another beam of light. “Go,” she tells the girl.
She does. As if death is chasing her. Funny, that's me.
Then the witch turns back to us. “Ione is in the Strait of Messina,” she says. “We must enter the maw of Scylla to retrieve her.” She holds up the dagger. "This will help, and I will return it to Chronomir," She sighs and mumbles. "I was supposed to do that a century ago, but good thing I didn't."
I nod. “I don’t care how it’s done. We’re going.”
Caspian stretches, then sighs. “Blood sacrifice,” he says. “Only way in. You know Scylla. She’s dramatic.”
I turn to the old man, who is already backing away. “Your time to shine, buddy.”
He begs. Pleads. It’s pathetic. I already knew he would, but that doesn't mean I'm not vexed by it.
“Do you not serve me? Have you not sacrificed others in my name?” I sneer. “It’s your turn.”
The witch shakes her head. “Unnecessary. Your blood will do.”
She grabs my hand before I can protest, pricks it — annoyingly gentle — then drives the dagger into the sand. It hisses. The ground liquefies.
"Bring her home!" Moireth calls as Caspian waves from somewhere above us.
