Chapter 22 #2
“You aren’t itchy. You’re turning into a demon,” I informed him calmly, sliding my knife out from my waist and pointing it towards him. Inwardly, I was giddy to see his reaction. Would he cry? Rage and scream? Try to attack me? Oh, the possibilities were endless.
He blinked at me. “Ah. I see. I see. ”
And the oddest thing was, I think he did see. How disappointing and anticlimactic.
“That’s what happens to all of us, isn’t it?” he continued wistfully, voice shifting from the whining, nasally annoyance to more thoughtful with a touch of melancholy. It didn’t sound like him at all. I hesitated, my hand with the knife relaxing.
“It explains a lot; why they make us marry mud girls, and why so many people I know have simply … disappeared.”
Not so dumb after all.
Maybe I didn’t truly know this Noble at all.
Who was I to be jury and executioner? Me, who valued intelligence above all else, when Nisar was at least literate, and none of the others in my party were?
The others aren’t turning into demons. Well, at least not yet.
Nisar didn’t flinch or step back as I approached with the knife, dark eyes trained on it and me. He was oddly calm.
“Can it be quick, at least? I’m afraid.” He gave a weak little laugh and stepped toward me, showing more bravery in that admission than I’d seen in the queen’s entire court my whole life.
Goddamnit, why was he making a solid case for me not to kill him? The little bastard was growing on me.
The need to know what would happen—what could happen—if I caused him pain and suffering gnawed at me. I wasn’t going to do it because I hated him; it was simply academic. I couldn’t gain further knowledge unless sacrifices were made.
And yet … I could give him a sporting chance, couldn’t I?
“Start running. Maybe I catch you, maybe I don’t.”
That certainly evened the odds, didn’t it?
Nisar didn’t wait another second. He took off down the dark corridor, only pausing to swipe the torch from its bracket before he was gone. The flames bounced up and down in the darkness, marking his progress as he went further and further.
Until suddenly, it went out completely .
No screams, no clattering of the torch against the stone wall or floor. It and Nisar had been there one moment, and then simply gone the next.
Curious, yet wary, I crept forward.
“Nisar? Did something happen?”
Silence.
That little maggot had taken my torch, so I was blind. I took a tentative step forward, my arms stretched outwards as if I were blind. Good thing it was dark; I likely looked ridiculous.
This was stupid. There was nothing there.
I picked up my pace.
BOOOOOM.
The roar of a dragon sounded from somewhere far above me. The ground shook and I stumbled, unable to keep my balance. I fell hard and rolled. Reaching an arm out, I recoiled with panic when there was no ground in front of me; only empty air. I scooted backwards in panic, breathing heavily.
Holy shit. Holy SHIT.
I kicked my foot out, listening as I sent tiny pebbles and dirt flying into a deep abyss.
Nisar had fallen down there. Was he dead?
If he was lucky.
I didn’t have another torch handle, but I had enough supplies to make one little flare and toss it down the hole to get an idea of how deep it was. But that meant navigating the way back in complete darkness.
Frustration welled in my veins and turned my gut bitter. I’d lost my chance to experiment, and my bloodmagick churned inside of me, unhappy. With each ritual I completed, it grew hungrier and more impatient.
More violent.
There was a small kernel inside of me that knew I should be concerned, but I brushed it aside. I was fine. The magick was impatient, but it was also fine. I could control it.
I was in charge.
A more pressing concern was how the others were unlikely to believe that Nisar had accidentally plummeted to his death when my dislike of him was well known.
Not your best move, Zephyr.
Oh well. This was actually the truth, for once. When you had the truth on your side you weren’t supposed to hide anything. That’s what the ‘good guys’ always said in my stories, after all.
A low moan cut through the cave, directly below me.
Oh shit.
Nisar was still alive.
Sucks for him .
I felt around the edges of the hole, an idea in my mind. These old mine shafts were once functional; and that meant there couldn’t just be random holes in tunnels. The sides of this hole were smooth, meaning it was intentional. That meant there should be?—
“Yes!”
A rough rope ladder lay attached to the hole about halfway around the circle. The rope was thick and abrasive against my palm. It should be enough to hold my weight.
Hell of a gamble.
Less of one than tripping into an abyss, however.
Cautiously, I gripped the rope ladder and put one leg on the rung. It was massive and sturdy. Hopefully, it went the whole way down.
Into darkness .
That was putting it mildly. I lost all concept of time and space in the inky dark, focused only on continuing my descent. My blood pounded in my ears, anxiety and excitement turning my stomach .
Excitement? Excitement for what?
If he’s already dying, what’s a little experiment for the sake of knowledge? You wouldn’t even have to lie about how he died …
Not lying? That would be something novel.
I shouldn’t be excited Nisar was bleeding out on the ground below me.
That’s not how people normally reacted, was it?
Sure, I’d been excited about seeing my enemies get their comeuppance in the past—M, the queen, stupid Nobles who’d sneered at me.
What exactly had Nisar done that was so terrible?
He was an idiot, sure, but had that always been a death sentence?
Yes.
I shook away the niggling thought. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right.
And yet, I wasn’t bothered by it.
“H-help …”
My foot hit hard rock instead of another rung on the ladder. I let go, and weighed my options. The knife felt heavy at my waist, my bloodmagick flaring and giving away my position.
And Nisar’s.
It wasn’t pretty. He lay prone on his back, his left arm and leg bent awkwardly underneath him. His head lay angled to the side, eyes staring straight ahead and away from me.
He wouldn’t even see it coming.
I thought about what I’d planned to do with the Fireguard; what my bloodmagick had wanted me to do. It was one thing when it was a nameless guard I didn’t know—could I do it to Nisar? Sure he was irritating, but to finish him in cold blood for my own purposes?
We’re all dead anyhow.
I unsheathed my knife and moved forward. He wouldn’t even see me coming.