Chapter 75
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Ellery
At first, I was too astonished by the duke’s reaction to do anything, but then I lifted my gaze to his bulging eyes. Many of the amsirah started laughing and pointing as the duke’s face became a thunderous shade of red.
I wanted to laugh too, but instead I felt sick to my stomach. This weak, pathetic man terrorized this realm before he ruled it, and he’d tortured Ryker as a child. He imprisoned my mother because I slept with his son, and he broke Ryker and me apart.
He’d done countless atrocious things far scarier than the gargoyle standing beside me, yet the wretched man had pissed himself.
Hate filled his eyes as he sneered at me. “Whore.”
“You may think me a whore, but at least I’m not weak and pathetic.” My gaze raked over his ruined, wet pants before I met his again. “I’m also not the one who will soon be in chains. We’ve broken the ones you and the other aristocrats placed on us. We’re free.”
If looks could kill, he would have rammed a thousand swords into my body. I smiled at him in return.
“You can’t defeat us,” he snarled.
“Who’s this us you speak of? The other aristocrats are all dead. We killed them before coming here… for you.”
The color drained from his face, and if he’d had any urine left, I was sure he would have peed himself again.
“What do we do with him?” Ianto asked.
“I think Ryker should decide his fate,” Tucker said.
I appreciated that Tucker didn’t add if he’s still alive to the end of his sentence. He had faith we’d find Ryker alive, and so did I.
“I agree,” I said.
“Then some of the gargoyles will fly him to the jail and watch over him,” Indon said.
“Thank you, Indon,” I told him.
As the duke was led through the crowd and out of the pit, more and more amsirah pointed and laughed at his piss stain. Others threw stones at him as they jeered and ridiculed the man.
I took no pleasure in any of it. I was just glad to have him under our control and to know where he was.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on me as I resumed my work, but I wouldn’t rest until I found the others. There was no way I could sleep while knowing they remained trapped under this wreckage.
At least another hour, if not more, passed before I lifted another rock to discover Callan’s face beneath. His eyes were closed, his head tilted to the left, and blood trickled from his mouth.
Chunks of debris covered the lower half of his body, and as we carefully worked to remove them, we discovered his crushed pelvis and legs. The bones had started to heal, but they hadn’t gotten far, either because his wounds were too bad… or was he dead?