60. Lina
Lina
“ A mora,” he says matter-of-factly, eyes still pinned to me, “is the oldest matron drakai in the clan.”
I try to work through exactly what any of this could mean, but then I’m grabbed. The mob of masked men are around us, and I am trapped in one of their arms. This time, I resist screaming as I’m bound and gagged. I can’t see what happens to Haze. I am lost in a sea of masks and rough hands.
Was he part of this? Was he playing a role until he could ensure I was recaptured? Is there a reason he wants me alive but not free?
Discard him when it is fitting , she had told me. Is that what he will do to me?
I don’t know. Should I follow his instruction to keep what happened with Amora secret?
I am dragged through tunnel after tunnel. The men holding me don’t speak, not to each other and not to me. Finally, they drop me carelessly onto my butt. I hastily brush my hair from my eyes to see where I’ve been brought. I expect fangs or fire or jeering men.
Instead, I find a massive domed ceiling in an otherwise empty, shadowed room. My breath comes out in a puffy cloud, and I shiver from more than just the cold.
A large form looms over me. I look up to a masked warrior. For a moment, I think it’s Haze, but then I notice his thick stature.
I find the bleeding wound on his stomach and swallow.
“You’re a fucking bitch,” he tells me through gritted teeth. “You’re going to regret what you did.”
My nostrils flare. I don’t bother to tell him it was worth it.
I take in three long breaths and pool what little strength I have left. It’s a cruel game I’ve played with death all these years. Will it end tonight after all?
Several women in tunics rush around the room with tiny sticks of fire, lighting one torch at a time. One by one, the room brightens, until I realize we are in the sanctum.
It looks so different without the hundreds of torches. Will they light all of them for this impromptu trial in the middle of the night?
Minutes pass, and I don’t dare try to rise from my place crumbled at Ivar’s feet. He doesn’t touch me or goad me, and that’s blessing enough for now.
I brave a quick glance up at the man who should have been my captor, my Drak. I try to imagine what my short time here would have been like if he had been my guardian. I shiver at the thought.
I thought very little of my Dread when he first claimed me, but Haze never truly lived up to the name. Not to me.
He was something else entirely. He was a dagger in the dark. A snake hiding in tall grass. He let me feel safe enough to let my guard down before I uncovered who he really was.
Ivar’s form is thicker, each muscle more defined. His eyes reveal a darkness deeper than I’m capable of facing. There is no question of who and what he is.
I would never be at risk of caring for this man. It will forever be easy to hate him.
I allow the hate to fill up my whole body.
That will be the feeling that I leave this world clinging to. The wall that will protect my soft soul from more pain.
“Ivar,” a smooth, feminine voice barks.
I look up to the platform now covered in torchlight to find a woman with long red hair and a golden silk dress. Her face, though, is notably absent of the paint that previously made her striking. Her skin is pale and sallow. Her lips a dull pink. Her eyes shrewd but unremarkable.
“I take it you’ve come with proof of your accusations?”
A boot pushes into my back, shoving me forward. I barely catch myself before my face scrapes the floor. “One smell is all it’ll take to know exactly where she’s been.”
The priestess curls a lip in disgust, but she prowls forward none the less to examine me. “Stand,” she commands.
This time, I return her look of disgust.
She raises a brow. “The little rat with claws, after all?” she croons.
“I have seen inside your soul. You are meek. You are weak. You may enjoy your game of defiance, but we both know you have nothing left to fight with or for.” She laughs.
“So, I suggest you play along. Your punishment will be markedly easier to bear if you obey.”
“Your punishments are cruel no matter what. I will not make it easier on you.”
She chuckles. “Very well.” She snaps her fingers. “Ivar, make her obey.”
“Gladly.” His voice echoes through the room, and I immediately regret my choice.
“No—” But I am already in his grip. Harsh hands are on my waist, brushing against my breast. Hot breath and bitter scent flood my senses.
I press my eyes closed, and when I’m placed on my feet, his arm curled around mine to hold my weight, I do not fight. I force my legs to straighten.
Ivar clings to me with one arm, and with the other, he brushes my wild hair over my shoulder.
“Bring her forward.”
Ivar obeys, dragging me toward the priestess. The warmth of the torches chases away the chill but not the panic.
The priestess leans in to look into my eyes. “This rebellion was not seen in your reading. That was just today, was it not?”
“He must have taught her how to hide it.”
She frowns. “Or something has changed between then and now. Where is he?” She peers down at me. “Where is your Drak?”
I swallow and turn my eyes to my feet. Sharp nails scrape against the soft skin under my chin, pressing so tightly it brings tears to my eyes as she forces my face up to hers.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“I told you,” Ivar says, his voice low with anger, “he is a traitor. A heretic. I’ve always known. He defies every command. Sets prisoners free when it was not foretold. He kills in mercy, not retribution. He is not one of us and never has been.”
She waves him off and refocuses on me. “Tell me what you’ve done,” she says to me, ignoring the angry Drak warrior threatening her.
“Nothing,” I whisper.
“Do not treat me as a fool, girl. Do you know the punishment for defecting from the community? You were given a gift, and you squander it. But, if there is more to your story than a coward fleeing from her duty, perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement.”
“I don’t underst?—”
“I will take her,” Ivar spits out.
My blood runs cold. No. No, I am supposed to die as punishment! I cannot be taken by him. I have seen how some Drahkitas are treated, and I won’t do it. I can’t.
“I will make sure she is thoroughly punished. With me, she will never even think of defiance again.”
“No—” I bite out.
The priestess rolls her eyes. “See, that is exactly why it is hard to trust your judgement, Ivar. A good warrior, yes, but your ego is too overpowering. Would you lie to me, Ivar? Would you lie to get revenge on a rival?”
He bows his head. “No. I do not lie.”
“Back up.” She flicks her fingers at him lazily. “She can stand on her own.”
I release a breath the moment that monster’s grip leaves me. He takes two steps back, but I can feel his eyes on my body.
“What was your goal in the dungeons? What is hidden there?”
“Nothing.”
“Lies!” she hisses. “Tell me or we will peel the skin from your bones, slowly consuming your flesh while keeping you alive to feel every moment of it. Or perhaps, I’ll start with one of your friends.
You’ve always thought us monsters; well, I will show you how right you truly are.
You stand in the way of our righteous retribution.
From the acclimation of the Ancient One.
So, you will tell us. You will never get the peace of death until you do so. ”
Nausea hits me like a blow, and I double over. I barely understand their religion, but surely I’ve done nothing so wrong as to hurt their Ancient One?
“I wanted to help her,” I say through gritted teeth. “There was a girl. She was taken for stealing food and kept in that terrible place, and all I wanted was to help her.”
The priestess stands up straight. “I could almost believe that,” she says flatly. “A pathetic girl like you, so caring and na?ve. But considering you killed her, I find that story a bit farfetched.”
“No,” I cough. “No, I didn’t kill her?—”
“Stop LYING!!” Her scream shakes the very foundation of the mountain, shuddering the walls. The rush of her power slams into my chest, sending my hair flying back. What the hell is she? What even is this place?
“Haze killed her,” I choke out between panicked breaths. “He stabbed her. I was trying to save her.” I’m sobbing now, though I don’t know when I started.
The cold and cruel magic drops to the floor like water and then hisses as it returns to her claws. “Haze?” Her voice is so calm. Smooth, like a lover’s croon.
“I told you,” Ivar says again.
This time, the priestess smiles sweetly as she looks up at him, still clinging to me. She brushes her fingers over his cheek, a soft caress. “Tell me.”
“She means something to him. He’s been protecting her. It’s the only reason he took the vow. He doesn’t mean it. He’ll break it at the first opportunity. She is his weakness.”
The priestess returns her attention to me, her eyes narrowed.
“Do you love him?” She begins circling me with slow, careful steps, examining every inch.
“No,” I bite out. “I hate him.”
She chuckles. “More lies. You’re good at those. Better than expected.”
“It’s not a lie. He was… he was kind to me, but he’s no different than the rest of you. He took me from freedom. He killed my friend. He killed the girl in the dungeon. He is a monster.”
The priestess freezes behind me, but I don’t dare turn toward her. “She believes that,” she says quickly.
Ivar stomps. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks or feels. It only matters what he does.”
“No, it certainly matters.” She finishes her circle to face me again. She taps her finger against her lips. “Perhaps you’re right. Where is Haze?”
“I stabbed him,” I finally say. I barely understand what’s happening.
She again freezes. “Excuse me?”
I blink rapidly. I can still feel the crunch as the blade entered his chest. In the same place he prompted me to hours before. I can feel his blood. I can feel his hands on my body, intimate and warm.
“He killed the girl in the dungeon. So, I… tried to kill him.”
She huffs out a laugh. “You did not kill him. You are not capable,” she explains.
“If Ivar’s theory is true, it makes for a very interesting turn of events.
We are going to play a game, Little Mouse.
If you survive, you’re going to become a Drak priestess.
This time, you will not have the opportunity to reject the call.
We will suffocate you in the fire until your soul is gone entirely.
You will be Nihilian like your lover. When the Nihil owns your body, you will stand beside me on the altar and feed daily pieces of your body and soul to the Ancient One. ”
That doesn’t sound like a prize I’d like to win. “Why?”
Her smile sends a jolt of uneasiness through me. “Because it means you have power we seek. If you win, you will be the key to our final victory.”
The priestess grabs my arm and jerks me with her.
I stumble forward, dizzy. I try to keep up on my weak knees as she half drags me into the inner sanctum.
But there are no seers here to give me a reading.
The candles and torches are all out, leaving an empty, shadow-filled room with the smell of dust and mildew.
We don’t stop here, though. She continues pulling me past the inner sanctum and through another door at the back, behind the pit of glowing coals.
This room is icy cold and pitch black.
She drags me toward the back, to the stone slab against the wall covered by a white sheet. The form is long, with peaks at each end. I squint in the darkness. A nose and lips. I blink rapidly. Is that a body beneath the sheet?
“Come, Lina, meet the Ancient One.”
My eyes flare.
She rips the sheet off of the slab, revealing an old man lying flat on his back, eyes closed with a coin on each. His skin is pure white. Surely—surely he is not alive?
I watch carefully—no sign of breath.
“Is he dead?” I whisper.
“No. Not yet. Or perhaps, not anymore.” She shrugs, as if it makes no difference at all. “Come.”
She waves me forward. Ivar shoves me from behind, ensuring I obey.
I don’t fully understand what’s happening, but deep in my gut, I know this is wrong. Evil. Something that cannot come to be.
Don’t let them cut you.
The voice is softer than Amora’s was before, but I don’t stop to question it. I listen. I twist to flee from this strange fate. When Ivar grabs me, I thrash against him with every ounce of strength I can muster. I buck and throw my head back against Ivar’s nose.
There’s a crack. He curses but does not release me. Warm liquid rushes down my back. He twists and throws me to the ground, but I don’t care because it means I’m farther from the dead man.
Ivar crushes me against the floor.
“Have you become weak, Ivar? You cannot even restrain a Drahkita?” Blythe growls in annoyance.
“She’s stronger than I expected,” he growls but then readjust his hold on my wrists and pulls me back to my feet.
“If we can’t control her, we’ll have to bleed her out now.”
“No!” Ivar says. “I can control her.” To prove his point, he jerks me against his chest and crushes my arms down. I twist, but I’m unable to move.
Blythe approaches, blade in hand. Her eyes glow red now.
I close my eyes and begin to pray. To a god, to Astella, to Amora. Anyone who will listen.
“You’re searching so deeply for meaning,” Blythe tells me. “It’s not here. Sometimes, life is just shit. You’re going to die alone. No one will remember you. No one will grieve you. And your blood will fuel the destruction of everything you believe in.”
“No,” I say. Not because I don’t believe her, but because I refuse to give her what she wants. She wants me to make it easy on her. She wants me to give in.
“There is no one left to love you,” she croons as she lifts the tip of the blade to my forehead and carefully brushes the hair from my eyes, forcing me to still. Forcing me to consider her words.
“Wrong.” The voice booms through the inner sanctum as the door flings wide.
We all turn to watch the newcomer. My stomach twists in a strange emotion. A masked warrior— Haze , I realize quickly. I don’t even understand what I feel for him anymore.
But Haze is not alone. He’s dragging a prisoner along with him. A tiny thing in rags, with dark hair and almond eyes, covered in mud.
For a moment, I think it’s the girl from the dungeon—alive.
My soul crashes to my feet when I realize it’s not her.
It’s Astella.