Chapter 20
Roksana
The sound of my steps echoed around me as I rushed down the stone stairs to the interrogation chamber.
Two hours. I had two hours before Tymon died, and I lost access to the chapter master’s knowledge.
My lungs burned as I took the steps two at a time, which left me cursing when I finally reached the basement and had to waste time catching my breath.
‘Get yourself together. He has to see you as his saviour, not a desperate mark,’ I muttered, straightening my caftan.
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 an interrogation.
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.’
The news that Tivala knew about my vivamancy trumped even the fact that Jagon was trying to protect me.
My mouth went dry, the walls of the cell closing like a trap on me.
Still, I couldn’t lose my composure in front of Tymon.
His scrutiny told me he was hoping for that.
For the first crack to appear in my cold, controlled facade.
‘How much do they know?’ I asked, feeling a slight tightness in my chest when my aether finished filling the sigil. The spell was unproven, but if it worked… I’d found a vague description in a book on vivamancy Ciesko had given me, but since I had nothing better, I adapted it to my purpose.
‘Just that you have weird magic– Fuck… what is this?’ he said, collapsing as I entwined a strand of his aether with the sigil I’d created, before anchoring it to my power.
‘This is my weird magic,’ I said, finishing the weave that linked his life force to my essence.
A chill breeze from the ventilation shaft cooled the prickly heat that using my magic had caused.
The spell had appeared good on paper, but the amount of aether it consumed significantly weakened me.
Still, it was done, and now I needed to test my theory.
I reached for my dagger, and Tymon sneered before saying, ‘I thought we had an accord.’
I didn’t look at him, whispering the activation command, sinking the tip of the dagger into my forearm. I felt no pain at all while the sigil on his chest flared to life, and the wound appeared on Tymon’s flesh. Tymon cursed, reaching for his arm to staunch the blood.
‘What have you done to me?’ he asked, eyeing me warily.
‘I gave you a reason to be loyal to me. Don’t worry, you won’t experience everything I feel.
’ I grinned, wanting to bounce with joy, after seeing the spell succeed.
I placed my hand on the sigil again until it faded into his skin.
‘You’ll be fine unless I activate the spell.
Then if I die, you’ll die, and if you sell me to Tivala, I’ll let you suffer whatever pain befalls me. ’
Tymon tensed under my hand. ‘You turned me into one of those dolls witches sell on the market. Gods if I could only just–’
‘Kill me?’ I smiled, looking up at him.
Tymon paused. His chains rattled as maniacal laughter shook the interrogation room. ‘You’re worse than Jagon. I always wondered what he saw in you, but now I know. Your mercy is a curse, your touch a poison.’
‘Aww… Tymon, your courtly compliments belong in the highest nobles’ halls,’ I mocked him, rolling my eyes. ‘You should’ve worked as an actor. Splendid performance; extra points for the dramatic laughter,’ I said once he’d calmed down.
‘Why?’ New calculation entered his eyes. ‘You promised to let me live.’
‘No, I promised you that you won’t stay dead. First, you need to die, and in a way that satisfies my father.’
He frowned. ‘Fine, tell me what I must do.’
‘You will be the good little penitent. No provoking Boyan or the Blades. Remember, for this to work, I have to be the one who kills you. My poison will slow your heart and paralyse your body, but you will live, and I can reverse it. If Boyan loses his temper and opens your throat, not even gods can save you.’
At my words, his mouth fell open and genuine interest flashed in his eyes. ‘If you can do it. Hmm, that would make convoys so much easier,’ he murmured, but I shook my head.
‘If only we were friends, I would even tell you how to do it,’ I said, enjoying the annoyance that flashed in his eyes.
‘You’re a right royal bitch,’ he said, but before I could retort, the door to the cell opened, and three masked assassins came in armed to the teeth.
‘The assembly is ready to proceed. Boyan has asked to see you,’ one said, and I glanced at Tymon. His eyes widened at this display.
‘Remember your promise, Nightshade.’ Tymon’s voice fused with the clatter of the chains, and the guards looked at each other warily. I knew Boyan would hear all about this interaction.
‘Yes, I promised you death,’ I answered with a grin, watching them take him out until the door thudded closed.
I leaned against the wall, breathing slowly.
I’d done it. I forced Tymon to work for me, but at what cost?
How long could I continue losing pieces of my soul until I turned into another Jagon, uncaring and manipulating people at my whim?
Still, the assembly was about to begin, and I had a job to do, as horrible as it felt to participate in the theatre of death. The Brotherhood had few rules, but betrayal always meant death, and it rarely came on swift and painless wings.