Chapter 28
‘What?’ My voice is barely above a whisper.
He knows what I am.
But that doesn’t explain why he’d want to use the cure on me, of all people. What I did was nothing in comparison to Eira. I’m not responsible for his hex, nor did I keep people in a basement to conduct all manner of experiments on them.
‘Yvette,’ he calls out, clicking his fingers, and I’m hit with another blast of that citrus scent as the girl from the basement runs into the room.
The girl with the acid touch. Her brown dress only has thin straps, and stops mid-thigh, keeping the majority of her dangerous flesh exposed.
Her feet are bare. She may have been released from the cage, but she isn’t free.
Terror is a raging beast in her eyes as her gaze flicks between me and Damian. Two ropes dangle from her grip.
‘Bind them,’ he orders her.
‘No, wait –’
Astin lunges before I can finish, before I can warn him to stop – her hand clamps around his wrist, below the cuff of his jacket where his skin is exposed, and the howl he makes is awful and blood-curdling.
I tremble, backing against the wall, utterly useless as his flesh sizzles.
The knife falls from his hand. His knees buckle.
Yvette ignores him as he thrashes and kicks, twisting and yelling as she quickly binds his wrists and ankles. I’m struggling to breathe.
Damian watches intently as she comes for me next. I drop to the floor, cowering beside the table, tears blinding my vision. ‘Please,’ I say. ‘I’ll tie myself. You don’t have to touch me.’
I can’t believe I’m offering to truss myself up like a pig to slaughter, but if the end result is the same, I may as well limit how painful the process is. Astin whimpers on the floor, and my body lurches, wanting to run to him, to soothe him, to save him.
I should never have come here with so little magic. I promised in the temple I wouldn’t let myself be vulnerable again, and I’ve failed at the first hurdle.
‘Please,’ I say again. Yvette hesitates, looking between me and Damian. ‘I wanted to help you, remember? Why are you doing what he says? I don’t –’
‘I’m losing patience,’ Damian calls out.
She jumps and moves at once.
I scramble back as she approaches, but despite its ample size, this room may as well be a coffin, because there’s nowhere to go, nowhere to escape. Yvette is between me and the door, and there’s no hiding place to be found.
‘Don’t . . . touch . . . her . . .’ Astin says through gritted teeth. He tries to crawl towards us, but he’s like a fish flapping on land. His exposed skin is red and raw and blistering.
Yvette studies me, conflict warring in her expression, and then she angles herself to block Damian’s view of the two of us. My eyes widen as she burrows her hands in her dress, using it as a shield between me and her skin as she binds my wrists tightly.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, which is an odd thing to say to someone tying you up, before letting out a shriek and making a show of wriggling for Damian’s benefit.
She ties my ankles next, before dragging Astin by his jacket and hauling him so we’re sat upright, side by side. His hand brushes mine, and I’m not sure if it’s to reassure me or himself. He’s shivering, sweat beading on his brow. I curl one of my fingers around his as best I can.
‘Thank you, Yvette.’ Damian vacates his chair once he’s sure we’re secure. ‘That will be all, for now.’
She can’t run from the room fast enough.
‘What have you done to her?’ I ask.
‘Done to her?’ He raises a brow. ‘I unlocked her cage, and she came willingly.’
‘Right. And I’m sure you didn’t threaten her with some terrible fate if she refused,’ I say. ‘I already know what a liar you are. You were supposed to be using the cure on Eira.’
I don’t ask the question on my lips, but I’m sure he hears it anyway. What do you mean, you plan to give it to me instead?
His smile grows. ‘I was, wasn’t I?’
Beside me, Astin struggles against his bonds.
The rope must cut into his burn, but he won’t stop, no matter how much it makes him hiss with pain.
I wish he’d give up. Whatever’s going on here, he doesn’t need to be a part of it.
Maybe Damian will release him after he’s done whatever it is he wants to do to me.
Damian holds the cure into the light once more. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How one tiny thing can change the make-up of a person. Truly extraordinary, what a Souleater can do, when they put their mind to it.’
‘And Clarabelle took the credit for it,’ I say. ‘You left your study unlocked. I read her letter.’
His expression doesn’t change. ‘I have no need of it any more. I’m about to achieve what she never could.’
I frown. ‘What do you mean? All she wanted was to make Ozias take the cure.’
‘No, she wanted Ozias to make a potion. A very special kind of potion.’ The smile Damian gives me chills me to my core. ‘One that would make her a Souleater.’
A stunned silence fills the room, which only makes Damian’s smile wider, like the idea of knowing something we don’t makes this moment all the sweeter.
Astin recovers first. ‘That’s why you sent us after the potion? To become one of them?’
‘But . . . but . . .’ is my helpful contribution to the conversation.
My mind is whirling, trying to remember every word of the letter.
‘She was blackmailing him,’ I say slowly.
‘She turned everyone against Souleaters so that he would give in, to stop his friends and family being persecuted. She said she’d fix everything after he made the potion, because she didn’t want the wardens hunting her, should they find out what she’d become. ’
Damian nods. ‘Humans were demanding too much from the Souleaters. They went from trading a pleasant emotion in exchange for a magical item, to demanding . . . more. They wanted gold conjured from thin air. Pet wraiths that could do their bidding. Potions that would never run out. The Souleaters refused, claimed their magic couldn’t stretch that far, and, more than that, the humans banging on their door were all anger and greed.
The Souleaters wanted nothing to do with their emotions.
They moved to the settlement for some peace and quiet, to limit the amount of visitors they’d receive.
‘The humans didn’t like this, Clarabelle least of all.
Said it wasn’t fair they didn’t have magic of their own.
Clarabelle was already in a relationship with Ozias – I believe they were happy, for a time, before she got jealous and began making demands.
Unfortunately for Ozias, it transpires the potion she wanted him to make came with some unpleasant side effects. ’
‘It was going to kill him.’
‘Allegedly.’ That strange smile still plays on Damian’s face.
I have no idea where I fit into his plans for the potion yet, but I have a horrible feeling I’m not going to like it any more than Ozias did.
‘When it became apparent Ozias was never giving Clarabelle the potion, she killed him. Then she realised she’d done a little too good a job at turning humans against Souleaters, and claimed they’d stolen a cure from her.
At her order, humans have been searching for it ever since, thinking it will rid them of the thing they hate most, when in reality .
. . it has the potential to create more. ’
I swallow. ‘So why not drink the potion and be done with it, if you want to be one of us so badly?’
‘When Ozias realised the amount of magic required to make the potion might kill him, he abandoned the attempt. I need a Souleater to finish it.’
Astin struggles harder than ever, while I shake my head. ‘Well, I have bad news for you. My magic is depleted, but even if I had it in abundance, I wouldn’t use it to help you.’
‘Good thing I have a supply of humans down the hall to replenish you. And you will help me with this, Daisy.’ He drops the potion back into his pocket, then tugs on the ends of his gloves.
‘I cannot guarantee what will happen to you if you finish the potion. Perhaps Ozias was wrong about its fatal outcome. Or perhaps enough of his magic is inside, and I won’t require much of yours.
But I can guarantee what will happen if you don’t try.
Or perhaps I’ll start with your friend. Do you think he’ll look more fetching immortalised as a statue, or crushed into emerald pieces? ’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Astin murmurs.
I’m not sure I have a choice, unless I can convince Damian to stop this terrible idea altogether.
‘Damian, think of the way people treat you because of your family, because of your gloves. It’ll be worse if you’re a Souleater.
You’ll be forced to live in secret, looking over your shoulder for wardens, for people who hate your kind.
You’ll have to watch them celebrate the death of your people every single year, and they’ll do it under the guise of love. ’
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ he says. ‘Because I will be the Emerald King. Our last monarch had to rely on a Souleater to keep him in power. The only reason the king befriended Ozias at all was because his child was one. The Souleaters stole the princess away before the wardens came, but they took an abundance of gold with her. She had children. Grandchildren. And one of those ancestors wasted away the entire royal fortune so that his son got nothing.’
‘You,’ I whisper.
‘Me. I am descended from a line of Souleaters and kings, and what did I have to show for it? No magic. No money. No respect. But when I’m both Souleater and king, I will rely solely on myself.
I’ll be able to create all the gold and healing potions and happiness charms I need to make the people love me.
And if they don’t, I will have the power to make them suffer. ’
‘It doesn’t work that way,’ I say. ‘You won’t be able to make those potions without channelling positive emotions. And if I can’t find a way to harness them, you certainly won’t. Not if you take this path.’