CHAPTER 35
C HAPTER 35
T IME IN THE BOX was always unclear. Minutes? Hours? Days?
Raider lost all context. He lost himself. There was only the current jolting along his nerves. The fracturing of his thoughts.
Somehow, it made him into nothing.
He was nothing, then, when the Box’s lid slid away. He was nothing when the sides retracted into the table.
He wasn’t thinking when the restraints clicked open. He didn’t even know if the current still zipping along his nerves was actually happening or was just a physical memory. He barely even felt the collar still locked around his neck
“The Stone,” gasped the ashen-faced man with blood coating his throat but vanishing against the black of his robes. One hand gleamed with gold. “I … helped you. You must … help me. The Stone—”
The words cut off in a gargle of blood as a blade of quicksilver punched from Raider’s right hand into the arcanist’s throat.