16 Devastation #4
“You crave conquest.” He bent to her ear.
“I can give that to you every day. I’ll show you who Drenevan truly is.
I don’t need you to profess undying love.
I have no use for that. But we could be honest with each other, Death-Summoner.
I find that a vastly underrated quality.
” He eyed the fearful pulse at the base of her neck with amusement. “Now, will you join me?”
There it is. The same question Kadra had asked her eleven months ago. She gave the same answer she had given him then.
She laughed. Long, loud, and with a touch of fury. She laughed until her throat ran hoarse. And his eyes altered.
Fury bled into silver. Goose bumps peaked her flesh as his fingers tightened. A breath, and he let her go with a short laugh, clasping his hands behind his back and walking a few paces away.
He stopped. “Kneel.”
Magic slammed into her like a hammer and wrapped invisible vines around her limbs. She staggered.
“You can’t breathe,” he observed. “You won’t unless you kneel.”
The air rushed from her lungs. Straining, she fought the compulsion, managing only a thin stream before the world darkened. She fell to her knees. Her lungs suddenly expanded again.
Noceo took a seat and plucked a sheaf of parchment from a nearby table. His voice seemed to come from far away. “Crawl here.”
“You fucking—” She grit her teeth as her body tried to comply, biting her lip until it bled.
This is not your will, she reminded her body. This is not your will. She repeated it until she realized that she had begun saying it aloud. Strength ebbed from her, muscles cramping with tension. She raked her fingernails over the stone floor, dug them into her palms.
The tightening at Noceo’s temples told her that he hadn’t seen anyone fight back before, that Telmar had been right about her having some immunity to the magic. But it wasn’t absolute.
“Crawl.”
Noceo watched the precise moment she broke.
Her left hand moved first, then her right hand and knee.
She couldn’t comprehend what she was doing, moving like an animal.
She would have rather he hit her, broke a limb or a cheekbone, but he didn’t have to raise a finger as she crawled, silent screams ringing in her ears.
His silver-toed boot halted her by pressing against her chin.
Meeting his scathing smile, she spit on his leg. “Your brother never hurt me for laughing at his offer.” Kadra had looked delighted at it. “He gave me a fucking key to his tower.”
A dangerous glint in Noceo’s cold eyes. “I didn’t want us to be enemies, Death-Summoner. But here we are.” He bent down. “You’re worthless. You know this, and you agree with it. You’ll say it for me a thousand times.”
No. She trapped her tongue between her teeth, but her mouth still shaped the words.
He tsked. “You can’t bite your tongue or hold your breath either. Keep saying it.”
Blood shrieked in her ears, drowning out the first time she said it. She wasn’t as lucky the second time, couldn’t take back the horror of hearing the words in her own voice.
Worthless. Worthless. It poured out of her like it was all she’d known. She sat in a corner of her mind watching it leave and screamed and screamed. No one could hear her.
And deep down where even he couldn’t touch, something broke.
Blood ran into her mouth from how hard she’d bitten her lips. The pressure in her head was agonizing. Gods, Kadra, this was why you feared for me.
The door opened. “Noceo, I—” Dalvia froze at Sarai on all-fours before averting her gaze.
“Just as well, I think she’s ready to leave.” Noceo’s gaze returned to Sarai. “Stand.”
She was a puppet, going through the motions as he led her outside the manor. Dalvia bit her lip, looking torn as she opened a Bridge. Sarai could have wept upon spotting the marketplace’s familiar, colorful stalls beyond the portal.
“As promised.” Quiet rage still suffused Noceo’s features. “Walk through.”
She complied, a shaky tear tracking down her cheek upon stepping back into the lively space. Thank the Elsar.
“You can remember everything now. I might as well give back those memories. Now, hold still right here, and watch me until I leave.” A chilling smile spread Noceo’s lips like a blade through flesh. Drawing up the hood of his cloak, he walked to the Guildsmen loitering outside the tavern.
No. Her heartbeat stuttered, froze.
“There you are!” At the corner of her eye, Méherre raced to her. “Gods, I thought your Magus Supreme would have my head!”
Noceo spoke a few words to the Guildsmen. His silver eyes narrowed in amusement.
Time dripped in slow seconds as her eyes shot to Méherre’s. “Run.” She couldn’t move her head. He had ordered her to watch.
She screamed to the market, caring nothing for how mad she sounded. “RUN!”
Méherre followed her eyes and paled, gaze hardening to burning coals before she gestured outward. A portal split the air yards away. The marketgoers stared at it.
“Run through it! Please!” Sarai couldn’t. He’d ordered her to hold still.
Eight blank-faced Guildsmen raised their hands to the sky as one. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a spark flaring overheard.
No.
The air exploded.
And she knew nothing.