Chapter 4 #2
The Night General huffed and returned to the table with the books.
He braced his hands on the edge and leaned over the open page, shaking his head.
“You could manage the steep and narrow path. And you would be clever enough to follow the crystals out. Everyone knows the colors deepen as you get closer to the court they belong to. Every child knows dusk crystals glow indigo while night crystals turn black.”
He chuckled harshly. “But look at her. She is fragile. Weak. Obviously fearful and timid, no matter how much she pretends otherwise. She is pathetic. She could never manage such a dangerous path. Don’t you agree, Commander?”
The commander glanced at me and relaxed. He gave a weak chuckle. “You’re right. She’s not built for that sort of thing. She would fracture like glass hitting stone.”
Electric rage shot through my veins, but I kept myself slumped and trembling.
Despite the sting of the insult, something felt off. The Night General knew I had escaped him before. He’d seen it himself. Yet now he was calmly describing every possible escape route like a lecture.
Was it a mistake? A trap? Or something else entirely?
Whatever the reason, I filed every word away, knowing I’d have to figure it out as I went, as always.
“Good.” The Night General nodded. “You have eyes. See to it that she is bound for proper blood flow. When it is time, I want this sacrifice conducted smoothly, and I want her to bleed out quickly. The magic will be more potent that way.” He turned another page in the book.
Istos looked between the Night General and me, his expression caught between confusion and obedience. Then he gave a curt nod. “As you command, Night General.”
He turned and ducked through the tent flap, leaving me alone with the armored figure bent over the table.
The Night General didn’t look up. His metal-gloved finger traced a line of text while he hummed again as if I were less interesting than the book in front of him. Torchlight flickered across the curved horns of his helmet, throwing jagged shadows across the canvas walls.
I stayed slumped, breathing shallowly, my eyes half-lidded as though the fight had drained out of me, my mind still racing. That southern passage through the crystal caves sounded like my best chance, if what he’d said was true.
The tent flap rustled again, and two soldiers ducked inside. Neither of them was Keldren, thank whatever fates existed in this frozen nightmare. These two looked younger, their movements efficient but lacking the cruel edge I had seen in the flame-tattooed bastard.
One carried a length of fresh rope while the other crouched beside me and began working at the chains.
The Night General continued studying his book, tapping a finger lightly against the page.
The chains rattled as the first soldier unhooked them from the rings, and metal slid free with a soft clink. The pressure crushing my ribs eased, and I let my body sag further, as if I could barely stay upright.
Then he loosened the rope binding my wrists.
Fire exploded through my hands as blood rushed back into them. I gasped behind the gag, the reaction genuine this time. Pins and needles turned into knives stabbing through every nerve. Tears blurred my vision as sensation flooded my fingers, and my toes cramped painfully inside my boots.
The second soldier reached for the blanket wrapped around my body and began unwinding it.
Cold air brushed my skin as the wool fell away, and I forced myself not to shiver.
It wasn’t as bad as I had expected after being wrapped so tightly in it.
The soft blue silk of my dress clung to me, slightly damp with sweat despite the freezing temperatures.
The fabric seemed to hold warmth in a way that defied logic.
Magic, probably. Thea had mentioned enchanted textiles when she’d shown me around, and the coat she’d brought me in the prison had also been enchanted.
If this dress had some kind of thermal preservation woven into it, it might buy me a little time to survive outside. Not enough to wade through thigh-high snow for however many miles I was from Kai’s castle, but maybe enough to keep me from freezing immediately.
“Easy now.” The first soldier gripped my shoulders and shifted me upright until my back pressed against the rough wooden post. “Sit up straight.”
The second soldier knelt beside me with fresh rope in hand. “Arms.”
I whimpered through the gag and let my shoulders curl inward, my whole body trembling as I crossed my wrists behind my back.
I pressed them together with my muscles tensed beneath the skin.
The position looked like surrender from a woman too terrified to fight.
What it actually did was create a small gap between my wrists that would give me precious slack once I relaxed.
“Please,” I tried to say through the gag, but it came out as a muffled sob. I shook my head while tears streamed down my cheeks. I leaned into it, letting my chin quiver and my breath hitch in sharp, panicked gasps.
The first soldier exchanged a glance with his companion. Something like discomfort flickered across his face.
“Just cooperate.” The first soldier’s tone was almost gentle. “Do what we say, and it won’t hurt. We’re not here to make this worse than it has to be. When it’s time, it’ll be quick.”
“That’s right,” the second soldier added as he wrapped the rope around my crossed wrists. His movements were efficient but not cruel, nothing like the vicious way Keldren had handled me. “Hold still.”
I nodded, playing the helpless damsel even though it made my teeth grind behind the gag.
The rope wound around my wrists, loop after loop, and I kept my muscles tight beneath my skin.
My crossed arms trembled, partly from the lingering pain of returning circulation and partly from the effort of maintaining the tension without making it obvious.
I let out another muffled whimper and ducked my head as if I couldn’t bear to watch.
“Almost done.” The second soldier pulled the rope snug and began tying the knot. “See? Not so bad. It shouldn’t pinch.”
I sniffled loudly, my shoulders shaking with what I hoped looked like suppressed sobs.
In reality, I was counting the loops, feeling the pressure, and calculating how much give I’d have once I relaxed my arms. The rope bit into my skin, but not as deeply as before.
These two weren’t sadists like Keldren. They were soldiers following orders, tying me carefully so my blood flow wouldn’t be cut off before the sacrifice.
The first soldier moved to my ankles, unwinding the old rope and replacing it with fresh cord.
I let my legs go limp, playing dead weight while he positioned my feet together.
When he wrapped the rope, I flexed my calves enough to create slack without drawing attention.
It wasn’t as important as my wrists, but every bit helped.
“There.” The first soldier cinched the final knot. He sat back on his heels and looked at me with something that might have been pity. “Just stay calm. Don’t make trouble. We could get something to help you relax.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. Under no circumstances was I taking anything that dulled my senses.
The Night General grunted. “No. That could tamper with the blood flow and make the magic less potent. We do not know for certain what she is.”
The second soldier rose to his feet and brushed snow from his knees. “Understood, Night General. Is there anything else?”
“No. Leave us. I have matters to attend to before the ceremony.” The Night General didn’t look up from his book, dismissing them with a wave of his metal-clad hand.
Both soldiers bowed and ducked out through the tent flap, leaving me alone with him once more. The canvas settled back into place, muffling the sounds of the camp outside.
I stayed slumped against the post, my breathing ragged and loud while I worked my wrists. Once I relaxed my arms, I could slide them a little farther apart, and the rope loosened. Not much—just enough to give me a little more room to work.
The wood behind me wasn’t perfectly smooth. A rough knot jutted out just enough to catch on the rope, and I began dragging the fibers across it with careful movements. It was a slow process, but it was better than nothing.
The Night General paused, picked up an inkpot, and crossed to a small chest I hadn’t noticed in the back of the tent. He opened it, shifted a few items around, set the inkpot inside, and closed it again before returning to the table and continuing to read.
Minutes stretched like taffy, each one an eternity of tiny, deliberate movements.
I rubbed the rope against the rough spot on the post, feeling the fibers fray while I scraped my own skin raw.
My shoulders burned from the awkward angle, and sweat trickled down my spine despite the cold seeping through the canvas.
Outside, boots crunched through snow, and voices drifted past the tent in fragments I couldn’t quite make out. Someone laughed, a harsh barking sound that made my skin crawl. The camp was settling into whatever routine came before a sacrifice, and I shoved that thought aside before it could spiral.
Instead, I focused on the rope. Fray. Pull. Twist. Fray again.
The Night General turned another page, the parchment rasping softly in the quiet tent.
He still hadn’t acknowledged my existence beyond that first inspection.
Part of me wanted to scream at him, to rage against the gag and demand answers.
But the smarter part, the one that had kept me alive this long, knew better.
Let him think I was broken. Let them all think it.
I was going to get free, and I'd steal something he'd be sure to miss.
Maybe several things. And I'd figure out something special for Keldren later.
That flame-tattooed bastard was going to get what was coming to him.
His dick was probably important to him, but I couldn't exactly steal it yet. He’d miss it when it was gone, though.
The Night General stopped humming and leaned closer to the page.
A strand snapped.
The faint sound cut through my ragged breathing, and I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs. The sound had been soft, probably swallowed by the crackle of the torches, but in the silence, it felt deafening.
The Night General’s finger paused on the page.
I forced out a shaky breath through the gag and let my shoulders tremble as if I were crying again. My wrists stayed perfectly still even as panic surged through me. After a long moment, he resumed reading.
I exhaled, letting the tension drain from my muscles one careful degree at a time. Too close. I needed to be more careful.
I made my breathing louder as I resumed the motion, timing each movement with a shaky inhale or ragged exhale. Another strand gave way, then another. The rope was weakening.
The tent flap rustled, and cold air swept inside. I didn’t look up, keeping my head bowed and my body slumped as heavy footsteps approached, leather creaking with each step.
“Night General.” Keldren’s voice slithered into the space. “The altar is prepared. The mage is ready to begin the preliminary rites.”
My stomach clenched. How much time did I have? An hour? Less?
“You’re certain it is precisely to standard?” The Night General closed the book and turned toward him.
“The commander supervised the preparations himself, along with the mage. Every step has been—”
The ground lurched beneath us as if something massive had struck the hollow, and a shrill screech tore through the air. I slammed sideways into the post, my shoulder hitting hard enough to send stars across my vision.
The tent canvas rippled violently as men outside shouted in alarm. Glass vials rattled across the tables, several crashing to the floor in sprays of liquid and shattered fragments. Sharp pains flared through my body, and I was helpless to do anything but submit to the chaos.