Chapter 39
Thirty - Nine
Shaye
Demons come for me and Nyx the moment we dock.
His wounds are beginning to heal, but Nyx has barely opened his eyes in days.
They've continued to force sugovan down our throats, rendering us powerless, and I haven't seen Bastian since he stopped Vesper from torturing Nyx.
The second I do see him, I will need to get his attention.
He can't go through with opening the portal. He's walking into a trap.
We are moved from our cell to a cage on wheels. The desert sun is scorching and blinding. We're not docked in Midori. The ship is anchored just off the shore of endless desert.
It takes nearly an hour on foot before we see a lone structure in the distance. A stone archway with reflective glass in the center. There's no doubt about it. This is the portal they rebuilt to open a gateway to Malvolio.
"Bas," I whisper when he gets close enough, garnering his attention. His eyes slide to Vesper leading the way before marching over to my cage. He maintains a healthy distance as we move, probably suspecting I'll attempt to grab him.
"What?" His voice is gruff, unfeeling. He's pale and sickly looking, but his physical condition is quickly shoved to the back of my mind.
"This is a trap," I keep my voice down. "Drogon is going to kill me and Nyx."
He furrows his brow. I might be imaging it, but a protectiveness flashes in his eyes. "I will make sure he doesn't harm – "
"You're not fucking listening." The harshness in my tone swallows his tired and delusional beliefs. I curl my fingers around the bars, pressing my body against them. "Drogon will give you the option to serve him or die with us."
"You're lying. Who told you that? You are trying to confuse me – "
"I'm not lying!" I hiss. "If you use my blood to open the portal, we're all dead. The Soul Eater you sent to patch Nyx up told me."
Bastian freezes. "I made a deal with Vesper," he finally speaks. "If I help them reforge and open the portal, the Demon King will reward me in his new world. I will be King of Midori." He reaches for my hands, but I retract them. "You will be my queen. We can rule tog -"
"Bastian, do you hear yourself?" I shake my head.
What is he not understanding? "You were already going to be king once you married me.
You didn't need to do this. You still don't have to do this.
We can escape," I rasp, clearly grasping at the last remnants of hope he will course correct. "We can run away – "
"I will ensure the safety of our people during the treacherous times ahead," he cuts me off, truly believing he's some kind of savior to the sand lands. "Our enemies will pay for everything they've done to us."
"What have the other kingdoms done to us?
" I question, harshly. "My father cut ties with everyone after the Great War.
He tried to kill General Naziri, but he escaped with all the sand dragons and magic wielders.
We turned our backs on our allies. Not the other way around.
Any suffering our people have endured has been our own fault. "
He shakes his head. I'm not getting through to him. I can see him shoving me out.
Our caravan stops.
"Bas, don't do this."
"It's already done." He snaps his fingers, and two Soul Eaters approach the cage. "Bring her."
They obey without question, unlocking me from my shackles and dragging me before the portal.
Bastian stands, feet shoulder-width apart and nods. One demon forces me to my knees, the other grabs my arm holding my palm up. Vesper tip-toes closer, a grim smile on her face, her blade in hand.
"Maybe we should slit her throat and spill all her blood," she suggests, tilting her head to the side like a curious bird. "Just in case."
"Just her palm," Bastian insists and it fills me with indescribable rage.
"Too much of a coward to slice my hand yourself, Bastian?" I taunt.
"He doesn't have the stomach to harm you," Vesper presses her lips to my ear and grins. "But I do."
She snatches my hand and slides her knife across the middle of my palm.
I wince and bite my lip, refusing to shed one tear though the pain is excruciating.
Vesper yanks my wrist, placing my bloody palm to the pieced-together portal.
For a moment, nothing happens. My relief and confusion evaporate when my blood begins to fill the cracked spaces between the glass.
Once each one is filled, it glows brightly, seamlessly forging together in one large reflective archway.
Vesper pushes me back, ordering for them to put me back in the cage with an unconscious Nyx. Once I'm shackled back in place, my hand bound with linen, Vesper takes her hand and pushes it against the glass.
I hold my breath, praying the portal is beyond repair, even with my blood.
But I have no such luck. Her hand disappears through the liquid mercury, the glass rippling like waves in the sea.
She tosses me a satisfied grin over her shoulder.
Once I go through into the Underworld, there's no protecting me.
Bastian can put up a fight all he wants for me not to be harmed, but I have a sick feeling gurgling in my belly Vesper will demand my life once she's reunited with her true master.
"It's done," Vesper shouts triumphantly. "The portal is open!"
The demons raise their hands and cheer, their hisses spider-walking up my spine.
Vesper walks through and the group follows suit. Bastian is second to traipse into the Underworld while his minions drag my cage along with them.
Passing through the portal is akin to swimming and breaking through the plane of water. Once I'm on the other side though, my stomach knots.
Malvolio isn't the hellscape I pictured it to be.
Where I was sure there was going to be walls of flames, endless darkness, and smell of rot and decay, I find it to be the exact opposite.
The kingdom is filled with black buildings composed of wood and stone, clean and organized.
The castle in the near distance is made of polished black marble with red hues of light piercing from the countless windows.
A red sun eclipsed by the moon is the source of the crimson lighting in this realm.
The haloed sliver in the dark starless sky lights our path straight through town.
No one is waving pitchforks or hissing as we traipse through.
The demons here, although uncomfortable to gaze upon with their black, soulless eyes and pale skin, stare at us with keen interest. Without speaking a word or asking any questions, little by little, the further inland we go, more and more demons and creatures from the Underworld follow our party to Drogon's castle.
I tap Nyx's leg with my foot, hoping he will finally stir. If there's even the slightest opportunity to break for the portal, he will need to be awake and strong enough to walk. I won't leave him here, but I am physically unable to carry him.
There is a square before the castle steps with a wooden platform at the center. At first, I believe it's where Drogon will address everyone, but then a thin creature with jagged horns stomps up the stairs with a whip twisted in his grasp.
Shit. That can't be good.
The square quickly fills until I can barely see the platform. I spy between arms and bobbing heads when the castle doors open with a thunderous creak and a dark figure looms. Though I've never seen Drogon before, I know deep in my heart it's him.
Wearing trousers and a hefty fur across his broad shoulders, his dark grey chest has red tattoos etched across.
I can't tell what they are from this distance, but my best guess would be ancient runes, probably for protection.
He's tall, so if I were closer, I'm sure he'd be a giant compared to me.
His face is a mixture of what I can only describe as Elf and Troll features – as if he was spliced together.
Pointed ears, sharp teeth, and eyes that glow an eerie yellow.
It's not possible, but I feel as if he's watching me.
But how can he when I barely have a clear view of him?
He takes his time walking up the steps to the platform, his fur robe trailing behind him. I suppose I was right he would be addressing everyone gathered from that podium, but the creature beside him has me anticipating the worst.
Drogon holds up his hands, the fur sliding off his shoulders and pooling on the floor. His nails are long and sharp and without the robe, I see his inky black hair plastered to his chest.
"Brothers and sisters," his voice scrapes inside my mind – a torture of it's own. "Our time for vengeance has come at last." His vicious glowing eyes find Vesper. "Vesper, you have returned to us victorious. You are a faithful servant and will be rewarded greatly."
Vesper falls to her face. "You honor me, Master."
Drogon ignores her groveling, focusing now on Bastian. He tilts his head, eyeing Bas from head-to-toe. "And you are?"
Bas kneels, bowing his head. Traitor. "I am Bastian Tarkin. I led the efforts in reforging the portal, making a deal with Vesper I would rule the Midorians when you rebuilt our realm."
Vesper rises when Drogon motions for her to come up to the platform. "Is that so?" the Demon King crows. "Did you promise the mortal he would be king?"
I don't think I've ever seen Vesper afraid before. But it's undeniable. There's true fear in her eyes. Her shoulders tighten, her back straight like a rod. When Drogon presses his hand on her shoulder, she flinches, beads of sweat bubbling near her hairline.
"Of course not," she stammers. "You are the only king, Master. No one shall compete or compare."
That slimy bitch.
I whip my head to Bastian. His mouth drops. Betrayal. It's written across his face. Can't say I didn't warn him.