Chapter 59 #2
While Fiza continued explaining, Elizabeth tested her bonds, trying to undo the tight knots with her fingers. Her thumb cramped from trying to loosen the knots, but they held firm. “The amulet is the lost portal and—”
“Fizalind,” Maud snapped. Her black, depthless eyes were cold. “Enough talk.”
Fiza snarled at her sister, “If you had to serve brainless whore after brainless whore—clean their nails and do their hair, and clean their rooms until your fingers were red and raw, you’d want to savour the moment too.
” Maud made a face, and Fiza said acidly, “Oh, shut up! You’ll have your fun with her soon enough. Where is she going to go?”
Turning to Elizabeth, she said, “As I was saying, once there were two portals to the Underworld, and through the witches’ trickery, they turned them into amulets and hid them.
One was found, becoming the portal in this castle.
The other is still lost. And you are the only person in Asteria who can tell us where it is.
” Fiza laughed, the sound hollow. “You are not important, nor are you special. Leviathan only cares about you, because obtaining the amulet is crucial to our plans.”
“But—why not let it stay lost?” she pleaded.
Fiza narrowed her gaze. “Why would we leave a chink in our armour for the witches to exploit? The armies of men stand no chance against us and will cower before us.”
Fiza sneered down at her, revelling in her fear, her despair. She leaned in close and inhaled deeply, as if her terror was a fine wine.
“Sister … let’s do it already,” Maud cut in sharply. “If Caspian’s whore does not wish to talk, we’ll just have to make her.”
Maud prowled over to her. “Pick a finger.”
“W-what?”
“Pick a finger,” Maud repeated.
She thrashed against her restraints while she tried to pull even a dredge of magic from within her. But there was nothing. Her well of magic was empty.
“There are two choices here,” Maud said, grinning from ear to ear. “Either we kill you slowly, or you tell us everything you know.”
“This is lunacy. Fiza. Maud. Please be reasonable.”
Maud smiled, and it was terrifying. “The only hope you have of seeing the sunrise is by telling us where it is.”
The demon looked at her expectantly, waving a knife back and forth in front of her.
Elizabeth invented wildly, “I saw it a long time ago. I’m not sure where. It was in a marketplace in Calyx.”
“Liar.” Maud approached her, and the touch of cool, sharp steel grazed her pinky finger, running over her skin feather-light, reminding her of the consequences for lying.
She shuddered. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell you where I really saw it. Please don’t cut off my finger.”
Fiza lowered her chin, her smile turning evil.
“I saw it once. I didn’t even know what it was at the time. I just thought it was some ugly, old piece of jewellery. I’m not sure if it’s what you’re looking for.”
“Where?” Maud asked, eyes riveted on her.
“In the queen’s castle. In her collection of treasures and jewels.”
“You lie.”
“She’s never worn it publicly that I know of, but I have seen it. On her vanity,” Elizabeth repeated. Fiza grinned, while Maud still looked suspicious. “It’s a gold piece with curling and warped metal at the sides and a purple gem in the middle.”
Fiza snapped her head towards her. Could she lie her way out of this?
“If it’s a part of the Rhodean queen’s treasury, and you have no love for your homeland, then why do you always fret we will discover the owner of the amulet? Whenever you think of the amulet, you worry that someone will be in danger.” Maud was too quick for her.
“I swear it! The queen has it.” Elizabeth faintly hoped the queen’s army and her guards at the palace would be enough to keep out any demons who came to call.
Maud undid one of her wrists, then the other. Freed, she made it a single step before Maud clamped a freakishly strong hand around her wrist.
Fiza joined in, and the two of them quickly overpowered her. She struggled against the two demons for a moment, but they forced her to the ground, spread-eagled. Fiza held her down while Maud leered in her face, brandishing the silver knife.
“I think you’re a nasty little liar. Tell me where it is, or we’ll make you wish you were dead.”
Her heart sank.
Her time was up, and no one was coming.
I can’t give up Charlotte.
Elizabeth’s brows drew together and she looked at the ceiling.
They’ve already gotten my parents, and now me—I can’t let my last act in this world be setting monsters on a friend.
Without her, no one knew where the amulet was, and it would stay lost forever.
A tear slid down her cheek.
After she was gone, maybe the witch from the prophecy—whoever it really was—would be able to banish demons from their world, and whatever horrible plan Fiza and Maud had hatched would never come to fruition.
Elizabeth stared at the ceiling resolutely. “I’ve told you what I know.”
Helplessly, she felt the knife pierce her flesh like butter. The sharp blade slid into her arm and carved a line, white hot with agony. A whimper escaped her lips.
A tongue slid over her arm, wet and cold. Claws pierced her skin to hold her in place while Maud lapped at the wound. Maud smirked at her, her thin lipless smile painted red with her blood.
“Please,” she begged, but no one was listening.
The blade caressed her little finger. Her breathing grew laboured, her body begging her to do anything to stop it. She yanked at her wrists that Fiza had pinned, but the demon held firm.
Tears of pure terror welled in the corner of her eyes.
Something sharp slid into her finger, and the scream that erupted from her lips broke her completely.
There was no beginning or end to her pain; nothing existed but the searing pain in her finger. She screamed and screamed, but the hall was quiet.
No one was coming.
She tried to move her hand, but it was in agony. Her fingers slid against each other, slick with blood.
Tears streamed down her face. She heard a cold, cruel laugh before what felt like a hot iron pressed upon her finger, and she blacked out.
When she came to, she was vaguely aware of being forced into a chair and her hands being tied behind her back.
Her finger ached sharply. She gently brushed her finger with her other hand, fearing the worst, and was alarmed to feel that the digit felt short, and the tip of her pinky felt crusted over with blood. Bile rose in her throat as she realized why it felt shorter than the rest.
Elizabeth grimaced at the idea of having to endure anything like that ever again.
The price for bravery might break her.
She wouldn’t be able to withstand another bout of that.
Warily, she looked up. The demons were across the room, speaking rapidly in the Godstongue. She did not know enough to catch what was being said, but it sounded like they were arguing.
Time passed, and Elizabeth felt nauseous. After a few minutes, she was able to think more clearly, but she still couldn’t see a way out of this mess.
A wave of hopelessness threatened to shatter her, and she begged herself to stay tough, stay smart, as her finger and arm throbbed painfully.
She reached into herself—only the barest flicker of her magic remained, like a dim spark buried deep.
Elated to see any flicker of magic at all, she reached for it, struggling to dredge up enough magic to cast a spell. But her magic was almost exhausted, and where there used to be a well brimming with green fire, only a small drop remained.
Come on.
She tried to coax her magic, and draw it up, but it slipped from her grasp.
She reached for it once more, and the smallest thread of green wavered, and hesitantly extended outward. She cradled the last of her magic, fearful that if she lost focus at all, she would lose her chance of escaping. But what could she do?
Glancing around the room, her eyes snapped to the chandelier.
Elizabeth eyed the demons and coughed, heavily and pathetically.
Maud stopped arguing with her sister long enough to look at her sharply.
Elizabeth smiled, slowly.
“Mortal filth.” Maud prowled towards her, looking at her scathingly. “Wipe that smirk off your face.”
Hardly daring to breathe, Elizabeth whispered, “Tídth.”
Maud snorted and took another step towards her. “Funny that you think a human with the barest gift of magic could possibly hurt us,” Maud sneered, manifesting a sphere of churning black fire that levitated above her palm.
She stared at Elizabeth with wrath in her eyes. “Want to see what happens when a ball of raw magic burns a hole through mortal flesh?” Maud taunted. “Maybe we’ll tell Leviathan you broke before you could tell us anything useful.”
Maud bared her teeth.
Elizabeth focused on her magic.
Metal groaned overhead.
Maud glanced up and froze as the chain of the enormous chandelier snapped, crashing down on her.
Fiza screamed, rushing to the chandelier to try and tug it off her sister.
Maud stirred underneath the chandelier, her hand moving feebly.
Elizabeth didn’t stop to see if she was alright—she was already up and moving.
Sprinting through the castle, she burst through the front doors. She paused at the iron fence, rubbing her bonds vigorously against the pointed tips of the iron bars until the ropes started to fray.
Spotting a shadow at the doors, she bolted.
She wrenched at the bonds as she ran, elated to feel the rope fall away. Hands free, she sprinted towards the forest. Snow crunched underfoot.
She made the mistake of glancing down at her finger and stumbled a step. Her pinky was nothing more than a charred stump, as if the demons had seared it with something to staunch the blood. To prolong her torture.
She ran faster.
Elizabeth ran for all she was worth, but using magic had zapped what little energy she had left. It was like she was running underwater. Panting, she forced her leaden limbs to keep going.
Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her, and she gave a short burst of speed. Elizabeth risked a glance behind her—Fiza was almost upon her.