Chapter 4
Four
I didn’t understand why they hadn’t just turned me over to Vaelor then and there, but it turned out he had already left—exiting out the back of the tent. I’d be forced to travel to his lands with the army.
The trees of the forest loomed over us with terrible inevitability. Spiritu Malignos soldiers marched me to my fate over the next day and a half. The army surrounded me, mostly bodied soldiers. The spirits remained in the rear.
During our brief stops, I’d catch sight of a spirit or two. They moved across the ground—or appeared to—though their bodies shimmered with a hazy, translucent quality. It became clear that they were bound to obey every command Throk gave, no matter what.
However, they weren’t held to the same obedience regarding the bodied soldiers of the Spiritu Malignos army.
Nevertheless, the bodied soldiers maintained power over them through their weapons—or at least the threat of those weapons.
As I’d witnessed with my own guard and the werewolf spirit demon, a bodied soldier of Spiritu Malignos could destroy a spirit with a single strike if necessary.
I’d seen no sign of Mira. I hoped she’d stayed safe—from the spirits, from everyone—even though that hope was impossible. A sense of partial blame for her situation weighed on me.
Not that I’d have much longer to worry about her or my massive failure.
My guard shoved me forward, and I stumbled, nearly falling on my face. “Keep moving, human. We’re almost there.” He clacked his mandibles in that way that I’d come to loathe. “You don’t want to be late for destiny. I’m sure Lord Vaelor has plenty of delights awaiting you.”
Another demon soldier with blue skin and small horns nearby laughed.
“Perhaps once he is done with her, he’ll throw her body out for the rest of the spirits to play with.
You saw how badly they wanted her. Maybe…
” He licked his lips, his eyes filled with an eager light.
“He’ll leave her barely alive for them to have their fun. ”
My chest tightened at their words. “I thought I was Vaelor’s alone and nobody was supposed to touch me.”
They looked at each other, amusement crossing their expressions. “Didn’t you listen?” the blue-skinned demon answered. “General Throk said that they weren’t to touch you until after you were delivered to Lord Vaelor. After that, they are free to make their move.”
I bit my lip. Shit. I eyed his sword, wishing I could somehow get my hands on one.
My guard noticed and laughed. “Don’t even try it. This sword won’t do you any good against a spirit, anyway.”
“You stabbed one and ended him,” I said.
The blue-skinned soldier snorted. “Only Spiritu Malignos bodied soldiers can stab a spirit and end him. You might get in a hit if he was interacting on this plane—otherwise it would simply go straight through him, and he wouldn’t even feel it. Either way, you can’t inflict any lasting damage.”
My heart sank at his words. Damn it.
“You’ve heard of the ruthlessness of Lord Vaelor, The Waiting Ruin,” my guard added. “A cast out from his own people. He knows no rules. I doubt he’ll leave anything of her worth taking, anyway.”
A shudder ran through me, and I fought to keep them from seeing me tremble. Whatever awaited me, it couldn’t be good. My only hope was to stay alert and somehow find a chance to escape, but they’d kept such a close watch on me that no opportunity had presented itself.
Demons varied in form, but most surpassed me in size, speed, and strength. The bodied Spiritu Malignos soldiers, with their brutish physiques, exemplified this point. Even my guard—thin and insect-like—still towered over me.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, the forest yielded to a large field. I figured we must be on Lord Vaelor’s land because the soldiers moved out into the area, setting up tents and other parts of camp.
I stared up, a little breathless, at the snowcapped mountains that seemed closer than ever. We must have just passed over the border from Kingdom Terra Monstrum into Kingdom Aeria.
At the heart of the barren field loomed a great wall, black against the dying light, encircled by a stagnant moat whose dark waters reflected nothing. Beyond the lowered drawbridge, I glimpsed the gray stone manor crouched within, ancient and severe, akin to some slumbering beast waiting to wake.
My knees threatened to give out beneath me, and a craven part of my soul longed to shrink back, to delay the horror creeping ever nearer by cowering. But I refused to do that. In the last moment before my life ended in terror and blood, I wouldn’t let them intimidate me.
As we neared the bridge, I straightened my shoulders. I’d go to my death with some semblance of dignity.
My guard grabbed my elbow and yanked me forward. I stumbled beside his lengthy strides, trying to keep my chin raised, though my heart pounded in my ears and a thickness had clogged my throat, making it difficult to swallow.
We passed over the gate and into a courtyard. The manor was all dark stone and sharp angles. Thin, darkened windows held ghostly curtains that hung stark and still. The cold and uninviting building towered over us as if it were a tomb.
The enormous front doors to the mansion sat open—massive jaws waiting to swallow me whole.
Without ceremony, my guard forced me inside.
“Enjoy your last breath of peace, little human.” He emitted a sinister chuckle. “While you can.”
His laughter was cut off as he slammed the doors shut.
I stood alone in the home of Lord Vaelor, whom I had killed.
I scanned the area for a quick exit. The spacious entryway stretched out from me, and a grand staircase made of stone spiraled upward to my left.
Two corridors stretched right and forward, vanishing into gloom.
A few lit candles flickered on candelabra in small alcoves near the corners.
Somehow their light didn’t seem to do much to brighten the space.
Ice froze in my veins when I heard a slight rustle in the blackness beneath the staircase. I swore something lingered there in the shadows.
Before I found a route of escape, a female stepped into the entryway from the hall in front of me.
She was thin and stooped. She had a beak for a mouth and hard, leathery skin.
A harpy. A neatly pressed servant’s dress covered her body, and she walked with a slight limp.
As she came closer, I noticed that one of her wings was lying dead and unmoving at her back.
“So, you are her, are you?” she rasped, looking me over with disdain. “The master said you’d arrive, and I was to see to you.”
I stared at her. I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean.
She turned away from me and limped forward. “You may call me Erlinen. Come with me.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected when my guard left me here. Instant torture? Lord Vaelor descending on me and inflicting the maximum amount of pain?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t… this.
She paused and scowled at me. “I said, come. The master doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Run. Hide. Was there any scenario where I might stop what was to come? If so, it would only be for a brief period.
Erlinen sighed. “Feron, see that she obeys.”
The shadow near the staircase melded into the dim light.
This demon had feathers on his back and arms and feathered wings pulled tight, though his front appeared human-like.
A large scar slashed across his face from his forehead to his chin, cutting through one eye.
He was bigger than me and stronger than Erlinen.
He grunted at me and pointed ahead to a hallway on my right.
I glanced into the darkness, and nausea gripped me.
“Feron doesn’t speak, but I suggest you do as he commands,” Erlinen said. I hated how her head twisted as she said it.
I stood motionless, and he reached for me. Stumbling backward, I lifted my hands. “I’ll go.” I edged around him and Erlinen toward the indicated hall.
The pair marched me between them down the long hallway. We stopped at some double doors, and Erlinen opened one and motioned. “Go inside.”
The look on her face was solemn—too solemn.
Dread washed over me. If I entered that room, I wouldn’t be coming out.
Feron clamped onto my shoulders, halting my retreat. His grip was tight, unrelenting. I tried to squirm away, but he stepped closer, forcing me across the threshold.
The door slamming shut, followed by the lock clicking, echoed in every nerve of my body.
I stood frozen inside a dining room, tremors racing uncontrolled through me. Stillness filled the air, heavy enough that each breath sounded jarring. Around me, the room gleamed with luxury I had only ever seen in paintings of dead kings and forgotten palaces.
Candlesticks resting in holders gave off a pale, silvery hue that seemed to be swallowed by darkness. Above the table, a crystal chandelier hung, fracturing the dull light into spidery webs across the wall.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swore the shadows moved. My heart leapt into my throat, but when I looked directly, everything was as still as death.
Two places were set at the enormous table.
Porcelain plates overflowed with steaming food that smelled rich and sweet beneath the sharper scent of metal lingering in the air. Beside each plate sat a silver goblet filled almost to the brim with a dark crimson liquid so thick it barely moved when the candlelight touched it.
Wine, I told myself. But the thought came too quickly, too desperately.
The room was empty.
At least it looked empty.
An icy pressure crawled up the back of my neck, the unmistakable sensation of being watched from somewhere just beyond sight.
I searched for any means of escape. No other doors existed. My gaze landed on the windows to the right, blocked by heavy curtains.
Yes. It might be my only chance.
I hurried over to the window and pushed the curtains aside. My shaking hands reached for the latch.
Orange glowing eyes glared with vengeful menace on the other side of the glass.