27. Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Slit pupils.
Rapists. Abusers. Murderers. That’s what he had said. They don’t deserve to see the afterlife. Even if it is Hell.
Liar.
Lux didn’t flinch as the man before her shoved her into a hard-backed chair. Didn’t move as her wrists and ankles were shackled to it with thick, leather straps. The buckles clicked closed.
Her parents’ deaths had shattered her. Broken, the pieces remaining were then scattered to the wind beneath the treatment of the mayor’s family. And as much as she wanted to, she didn’t trust Riselda. She couldn’t. Something held her back.
But, against her better judgment, she had begun to trust Shaw.
Fool .
Ghadra was rotting.
Let it.
Lux rested her head back.
The Shield lit a lone candle, its flame pulsing hungrily against the dark. With quick fingers, he sifted through the wall of vials. Each clink of glass knocked against her skull.
Offering a wide grin, he jabbed the needled point of a syringe into a narrow glass. “I bet you have all sorts of nightmares. Do you meet them often?” Lux bared her teeth, splitting her lip further. A drop of blood formed and dripped down her chin. He wiped it clean. “Answer me, girl.”
She watched him through hooded eyes. “I am the nightmare.”
The man chuckled, bringing his face within a mere breadth of hers. “No, you’re not.” He pressed the needle to her skin. “You’re just a pathetic, broken doll. I don’t know what the mayor is afraid of.”
Lux fought back a cry as the metal punctured her jugular, but not hard enough. She screamed as it burned through her veins.
A satisfied murmur in her ear. “Let’s meet them, shall we?”
The Shield retreated into the shadows as did the burning in her body; she couldn’t see him any longer. Instead, she watched the flame. Flickering, flickering, tendrils of smoke winding from its tip.
The smoke grew. It puffed from the candle in clouds. Clouds that twisted and warped and began to take form.
The darkness quaked around her. It beat in tempo with her heart, and Lux couldn’t help herself. She gripped the chair beneath her, her bruised back pressed tight against it.
Murky-grey eyes materialized, staring into her own. A shape. A shadow. The form of her mother floated toward her. Lux’s feet pushed uselessly against the stone floor.
“ No . Stop.”
A second form shuddered into view. Her father.
You have forgotten us, Lucena.
Rasping voices filled the room. It filled her head. Their mouths didn’t move, and yet they spoke to her, and her alone.
A tear tracked down Lux’s cheek. “I haven’t.”
Dark blood ran from their throats—from where they had been murdered the first time. It ran from their hearts. Where they had been murdered the second time.
Lux stared at the site. At the knives resting in their chests. The knives she had placed there. Pierced.
As one, the shadows of her parents pulled them forth, leaving gaping black holes in their wake. Smoke and darkness poured from the openings.
How could you?
They moved closer. They raised their blades high.
We loved you. We trusted you. You betrayed us. You failed us. It should have been you.
It should have been you.
And Lux screamed as the blades tore through skin, muscle and bone. She screamed as they pierced her heart.
All she could see were the eyes. The distorted, unnatural eyes of those that should be dead, but were granted another life. Their faces warped, their lips pulled up in scorn, twisting into unrecognizable shapes, until they dissipated into nothing. Lux was certain their blades had remained. Her chest hurt with every heaving breath.
The smoke hovered, unmoving.
Until, slowly, it churned anew.
The mayor. And another. Morana.
Lux’s breaths picked up speed. The shadow of Morana noticed, and smiled, but it was the mayor’s form that spoke first.
Little Necromancer. You will always be second best. But if I cannot have the healer, I will gladly take you in exchange.
A grey finger brushed across her cheek, and she flinched.
Such a gift. With me, I can make you the most powerful woman in Ghadra.
“Get away from me!” Lux growled at him, but her words were less than nothing.
You’ll not so much as breathe without my permission. You cannot escape me.
The shadowed form drifted aside to watch her beneath an expectant gaze. Only for Morana to take his place. The sneer she directed toward her cut her as sharply as ever, casting her back to her eight-year-old body.
Just look at you. Pale, bruised, bleeding and ugly. The shadow sniffed in disdain. You always were useless. Worthless. It suits you—being strapped to this chair.
Lux glared defiantly.
Don’t think I don’t notice how my family looks at you. And for that alone, I will destroy you.
The stinging slap across her cheek opened every crack in her lips and jarred her back so painfully she cried out. Morana’s laugh echoed through the small chamber, before they, too, dissipated.
Stupid girl.
Shaw crossed his arms in the corner of her vision, his usually warm brown eyes darkened to black. Lux closed her own, the betrayal too fresh. She heard him anyway.
A menacing chuckle filled her head. Lifeblood is all I’ve ever sought. All I have ever cared for. Eternal life. Do you think I’ll stop with the dregs of Ghadra?
She swore she could smell his scent, his honeyed breath against her lips.
You’re next. And when I slit your eyes, drain them entirely, and drink the silver that resides within you, know that I will personally toss your body to the darkness of the trees.
You will never see the light.
The candle snuffed, pitching her into an abyss. Lux pulled against her bonds, felt them dig into her flesh as the pain clutched her with an unyielding grip.
A disembodied voice filled the room.
Oh, Lucenaaa.
Didn’t you know?
I murdered your parents.
“Who said that?” Lux’s eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice. They roved frantically about the impenetrable room.
A wild laugh raked at her ears. It echoed in thunderous waves.
“WHO ARE YOU?” Tears dropped from her lashes and blood dripped from her fingertips. Both trickled down her raw throat.
That laugh. It wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t take it. The darkness pulsed in rapid tempo, mimicking the pace of her heart. Lux felt her consciousness slip.
Secrets, secrets, secrets.
He’d broken her—just as he promised he would.
Her head lolled, her voice a ragged sob. “Tell me. Please. Tell me...”
The splash of cold water on her face jolted Lux from her stiff, bent position. She groaned.
“Wake up, girl.”
Her attempt to roll from the voice proved futile. Something held her still, and she squinted open her eyes.
The chair, the straps, the candle. They all came into focus at once, and she lurched back, cracking her head against the wood behind her.
The Shield grinned. “Did you enjoy that? I certainly enjoyed watching you squirm. Who came to you, I wonder?”
He hadn’t seen what she’d seen. It had all been within her own mind. But it had felt so real. Lux glanced at her chest, the fabric intact.
No knives extended from her.
“Such a mess you’ve made, though.” The guard sniffed at the puddles of blood on the stone, directly below her hands. Turning, he reached for the vials once more. “What will we try next?”
A very real knife found its home this time.
The man slumped into the wall, sending potions raining from their perch to shatter against the floor. Puffs of mist and smoke melded in their midst.
Lux didn’t spare a second glance for him, craning her neck instead to the doorway. To a seething Riselda, eyes snapping with flame. A second knife flashed in her hand. With quick movements she stepped over the body, slitting his throat.
Blood spurted across the chamber, and she shoved him down. “You think you can take her from me? Never. ” Riselda spun toward Lux, hands miraculously clean. “Lucena. Are you all right?”
Lux nodded once, and Riselda retuned the gesture, striding over to her and unbuckling the restraints. “Who else was involved in this?”
Lux regretted every foul thought that had ever entered her mind regarding her aunt. “Two others.” She described them quickly.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I will see you home. Then I plan to have a nice, long conversation with our mayor. Despicable. He should count himself lucky if he makes it through alive.”
With a careful hold on her arm, Riselda hauled her to standing. Lux swayed on her feet. Her aunt’s grip tightened, and she steadied herself at last. “Thank you, Riselda. I think I can stand on my own now.”
Riselda released her one finger at a time. “Have you had anything to drink since your capture?”
She shook her head, once again acutely aware of just how parched her throat had become. “How much time has passed?”
Riselda’s lips thinned. “When you didn’t return home last night, I began my search. It wasn’t until I found a drunken woman this evening who remembered your leaving the Brewing Bog and encountering several members of the Shield, that I finally realized where you had been taken.”
An entire night and day had come and gone. No wonder she felt so miserable. A wave of dizziness descended, and she stumbled. Riselda frowned, gripping her around the waist.
Walking alongside her, Lux entered the adjoining room. The dead body was gone. The surgeon as well. In its place was a cleaned table, though she was sure she could see stains marring its surface.
She made for the doors, but Riselda’s grip around her tightened. “Not yet, Lucena.” Releasing her slowly, her aunt left her side, striding to the shelves filled with decanters, vials and powders.
Pulling a fresh beaker toward her, Riselda opened several of them to sniff and slosh their contents. Without another glance at Lux, she began to pour, sift and mix until the mixture changed from coarse opaque to a clear, light blue.
Riselda inhaled the newly crafted potion. With a satisfied smile, she held it out to Lux. “Drink up.”
“What is it?” She was too tired to keep the distrust from seeping into her voice.
“As much as I value your self-preservation, if I wanted to poison you, darling, I would have done so by now. Drink it. It will help.”
Lux took the lightly smoking beaker and tipped the contents into her mouth. It tasted refreshing, like the air on a rare, sunshine-filled spring day. Almost instantaneously, her head cleared. She hadn’t realized there had been a low, pulsing ache at its base until it was gone, and she sighed in relief, her shoulders dropping in exhaustion.
“Feel better?”
“Much. Thank you.”
“It’s a simple tonic. I remember it being one of the first things I attempted to teach you, though I believe the resulting potion actually gave me a headache.” Riselda laughed, low and quiet in memory, and Lux forced a smile to her lips, though she couldn’t recall the same.
It died, however, as she glanced about the room. “The mayor is harvesting lifeblood, Riselda.”
“I know, Lucena.”
Lux’s eyes sprang wide. “How long have you known?”
“I was once his most prized possession, my dear. I have prepared countless tonics, endless potions, and uttered the incantations so many times, I can recall them in an instant. All for him. And believe me, I noticed when he failed to age. I also knew there was only one substance that could cause such an outcome.”
“So you’ve known how it’s harvested as well?”
Riselda stared down at her. “No. That knowledge is his guarded secret. Why? What did you see here?” Lux shifted her feet as a moaning cry echoed from somewhere down the tunnel. It jolted Riselda. “Let’s get you out. Forget what you’ve seen.” As Lux’s mouth opened in protest, Riselda held up a hand. “Not even a necromancer is worth so much. You will have disappeared by morning.”
“But I—”
“Lucena. Trust me in this. If nothing else…trust this.”
Her aunt’s gaze implored her to swear it. Swear she would put it all behind her. To trust her.
But Lux trusted no one.
“As you wish.”