Chapter Twelve #2
“They will destroy you.” Idris smiled. The yellow light made him appear maniacal. “We are everywhere.”
“And who are ‘we?’” Talik prodded.
Idris’s features distorted into a painful expression that was impossibly tinged with ecstasy as he gazed at his right arm.
Something sharp indented Idris’s flesh, invisible.
It sliced across him, leaving a deep, jagged wound in its wake.
Blood dripped from it. The drops floated to the ground, somehow defying gravity, forming a puddle underneath him.
Talik stilled as the tension skyrocketed. He strained to hear if anyone else was in the room with them, but all he could hear was three heartbeats. Khalida looked at him, her posture transformed into a defensive position as she took a step back and surveyed the room.
A countenance of rapture crossed Idris’s features as the wounds grew larger. His body convulsed, and white foam erupted from his mouth as marks appeared along his torso and legs, red liquid stained his clothes. He shook as blood dripped from all his wounds and let loose a bloodcurdling scream.
Wincing at the unnatural screech, which sounded more animal than Atlantean, as goose bumps exploded across his body and his heart raced, he glanced at Khalida. She looked undisturbed, but her knuckles were white as she held her swords.
Idris’s body contorted unnaturally, seeming to levitate above the ground before he came crashing down in a heap.
The door behind them flew open as guards rushed in.
There had been no hint. No sign, but there was something else down there with them, but it was gone just as quickly as it had arrived.
Idris let out a pitiful gasp that sounded like he was closer to death than life.
Whatever or whoever had attacked him hadn’t intended to kill him outright.
Talik stared for a moment longer as the guards rushed to save him.
He wanted to tell them not to bother, but if a miracle occurred and Idris survived, he may have more information for them.
Ninhursag may not want him anymore, but Idris was a fountain of knowledge they needed to exploit.
Talik didn’t know what was more fucked up, that a minuscule part of him wished Idris could still be saved or that he welcomed Idris’s death.
***
TALIK
“That was a waste of time,” Khalida stated as she turned toward him, disgust dripping off every word as the main doors locked behind them. “Did you notice anything useful?”
They had quietly left Idris’s prison among the loud commotion, leaving him under the ministrations of the guards trying to save him. Just outside the door, they stood watch, in case something else happened.
“No. Nothing that we haven’t uncovered already,” Talik answered. Khalida may trust her guards, but he wasn’t as sure they couldn’t be influenced or corrupted like Idris or Chaucer.
If Dante had taught him anything through the years, it was that everyone had a price.
Truthfully, he hadn’t expected Idris to reveal any new information.
Seeing Idris, and how far he had fallen, was a brutal reminder that he had never known the Atlantean—not if Idris had first encountered Ninhursag centuries before Talik had met him.
Khalida let out another disgusted sigh as she turned on her heels and strode toward the stairs. She appeared to be on a mission. Talik followed quietly behind.
“Idris would prefer to die than reveal information against the Anki and his precious Ninhursag,” Khalida mused as she tapped her hip. Halfway up the winding staircase, the muted lights cast her in an angelic glow.
“What makes you say that?” Talik asked. He didn’t entirely disagree with the comment.
Khalida turned, her expression dark. “Zealots and true believers are always the same, whether they are Atlantean or human. They will die and kill for their cause.”
She turned back, her hair swishing as she took the steps two at a time and disappeared.
What they had observed had all been for show. A stark reminder to Idris that he was expendable, and for the observers, that the power the Anki wielded was immense.
It didn’t take long to reach Khalida at the top of the stairs.
She waited with her arms crossed. Except for a handful of guards stationed along the walls, the open hall was empty, and the bright red lights were a visual reminder the security cameras were watching their every move.
If anything happened, the entire hall and the dungeon would be locked down and isolated from the rest of the Arx as a precaution or until they had neutralized the threat.
“Will he survive??” Khalida softly asked.
“He will survive, if his masters believe he is still useful,” Talik said.
To the rest of the world, Idris had died in an unfortunate accident during the Jimourt, and now House Azaes was organizing a burial that reflected the status Idris had as a beloved scholar. It was easier to lie to the Atlanteans than explain the truth.
Khalida flexed her hand, brushing her hip. He walked toward her until they were standing side by side, forcing her to gaze at him. She reluctantly turned and glared at him. Talik held his breath. She looked fucking gorgeous, all righteous and about to do violence.
Her eyes narrowed. “We need to stop these vile gods once and for all.”
“The catacombs under Rome.”
“I don’t entirely agree with Dante’s theory. Idris could have been turned at any point.”
Talik couldn’t disagree with her logic, but they had no other idea, or starting point. “Do you have a better idea?”
“We still need to search the Arx. There might be something here that will give us an insight into how the wayfarers and the serpopards could infiltrate the tunnel system without us being aware of their existence,” Khalida said.
“Chaucer can search for it while he is under the supervision of one of your immortals, someone you trust. We may as well make him useful while you have him under house arrest.”
Khalida chuckled, the sound dangerously low. “Unofficial house arrest. As far as House Mneseus is concerned, Chaucer is just enjoying a studious break here.”
Talik snorted. The lie would be almost unbelievable if it hadn’t been backed by Dante. “If we get lucky, Chaucer may get eaten by a serpopard, and we can live happily ever after.”
Her silver-blonde hair glowed in the darkness, bright enough that he didn’t need the yellow crystals lighting the way. Khalida turned, but he grabbed her arm. Electricity ran through him as he hesitantly let go of her before she stabbed him.
She stared at his hand and then raised a perfect eyebrow. A haughty aristocrat look on her face, silently telling him he had crossed a line.
“I don’t know if Sypha actually had a vision of us working together, or if they have some other reason we both need to go to Rome, but right now, I’m not going to disagree with a seer who hasn’t been wrong before,” Talik truthfully said.
He may make the occasional bet against Sypha, but he wasn’t willing to put Khalida’s life on the line.
She drew herself up as if she was posturing for a fight. Her fingers splayed on the hilt of her right sword. Would Khalida go back on her word about not stabbing him in a vital organ? He would likely heal from the wound, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.
“I don’t like it. But if it means we can work out where the Anki are hiding, then I’m willing to work with you.
We can’t undo the past no matter how much we wish it,” Khalida said.
She moved forward, continuing without looking back.
“Annoy me, and I will see how well you heal. I’m subtracting this mission from the three months. ”
“That wasn’t part of the wager.”
This time Khalida turned around and stared at him. She narrowed her yellow eyes until they were almost slits. Her voice was dangerously low. “You won. But don’t push it.”
Despite everything that had just occurred, a small thrill went through him.
If he had ever questioned his hold on his sanity, the hot desire that ran through him would have made him think he may be slightly unhinged.
It also made him question what he was about to do and why.
But there was a part of him that would always be drawn to Khalida, a part of him that she owned, no matter how much he tried to distance himself from her.
She smiled. It was like a punch to his stomach, taking the air from his lungs.
“I hear Rome is delightful this time of year.”