Chapter 29 #2
My body feels like it’s floating along as I make my way out the door, fear biting at my heels hanging on with their needling teeth.
I spin the brass knob, and wrench the large door open and swiftly escape.
Samek waits outside and grabs hold of the door. Before entering, he studies me and his lips flatten. With one more glance, he pushes inside the door and pulls it closed.
The hallways are too enclosed, too much garishness garnered around the corridors. It’s choking.
I rush down the marble steps, not caring if I fall and crack my skull in the process.
Once I’m through the kitchens and safely outside where prying eyes won’t find me, I pull the list of names that are crumpled in a ball from my fist.
Sharp, frozen darts stab into me when I read the names, my veins filling with a heavy reluctance that threatens to weigh me down.
Merinda
Zedriel
Naaveen
I drop the emotions into the well that is my soul where they’ll swim among the void.
If only so Alora will be safe.
Because I am The Devourer.
I stalk down the side street, following the group closely, hiding in shadow.
With each step I force myself to detach from the moment. Ignore the chatter from those that I would consider friends.
Because right now, although friends to me, they are an order given to The Devourer.
They left the market in Ezmelir, chatting and lively as they picked up their bannocks.
Merinda’s twists sway, rebraided with gold that makes her umber skin glow brighter.
Naaveen stops near a flower stall filled with red bouquets for tonight’s honor of the Blood Moons.
He hands a loose coin to the woman peddling the blooms.
They’ll soon wilt, like all things that come to pass.
I lean against the nearest building, making my form smaller—unseen. I’ve mastered the hunt. This time is no different, it’s just a job that needs done.
If I don’t complete this, Orlin would be sent instead. He would be far less merciful than I. He would prolong their suffering and toy with them, something I wouldn’t wish on them.
Merinda trapses ahead, her companions lingering for a moment to collect their change.
The group keeps to themselves, stopping for small peddlers that look in need of the sales.
Zedriel, his clothes neatly pressed and shoes polished, is a stark difference compared to the once burly man that helped me in the Siltar Woods. His coat was too big for me then, even though his kindness reminded me what it was like to see humanity in others.
The Hidden members move forward again, their murmurs floating back quietly to me. Nothing in particular. Small talk.
It’s always so strange to know when someone's life is soon over but watching them continue on without a clue.
Merinda rounds a corner and enters into a doorway.
Damnit, my chance is running out.
Naaveen and Zedriel stay in the close alleyway, laughing and joking with one another. So unassuming.
I move in closer, still hidden by the shadows of the tight passageway mixed with some of my own that I called forth from my essence.
Naaveen gives Zedriel a deft slap on the back, chuckling at whatever was just said. He quickly turns and enters through the same doorway Merinda had.
Zedriel stretches his arms and begins to make his way through the door before I whisper his name.
He stops, his face stern and focused.
“Zedriel,” I whisper again, recalling my shadows so he can see me.
His eyes brighten and he makes his way toward me. As he gets closer, his expression starts to fall.
“Kassiel,” he begins, looking around where I’m standing, presumably looking for Alora as well.
I nod, words escaping me.
“Is Alora safe? Why are you here?” he asks.
I beckon him closer with my hand, and he complies. He follows me down the alley for a length before slowing his steps.
Cautiously, he asks again, “Why are you here? What is so urgent you leave the castle while Alora is there?”
The worry in his voice stings against my heart.
“I’m afraid that’s not why I am here, friend,” I whisper, the last word cutting me in the process.
He’s next to me in moments, concern etching his face as his brows furrow together.
He asks quietly, “What has happened?”
My eyes harden as I throw more rocks into the well of my soul.
I inhale, and with an exhale, build my armor thick along my mind, focusing on my duty, forcing myself to betray the man that Alora has said wouldn’t hurt a fly.
The world demands more than it gives.
Deserts drink greedily.
Predators eat the young.
Hatred consumes the gentlest of people.
Wickedness snuffs out all morality, threatened by the hope of others.
“Kassiel?” Zadriel’s eyes shift along my face, searching as his eyes widen.
My eyes darken, the flame of my humanity dimming as I douse it.
I lower my chin, staring at the man before me that offers nothing but warmth in a cold forgotten forest.
“I am here for one reason alone. It has nothing to do with Alora and everything to do about the rebellion you’re part of.” I step closer as understanding washes over his face. “By order of the king, I must take you in.”
Zedriel’s face drops briefly before looking to me again.
He should be eager as a lamb that walks to slaughter and I expect him to fight me, knowing that he’s one of the most adept warriors among The Hidden.
But he doesn't.
In true Zedriel fashion, he steps closer to me, holding his arms outstretched with his palms up.
“Then I will go, as long as you ensure they go free.”
He swallows thickly and nods while the shock of his willingness slices through my body.
Betrayal is a hard thing to do.
But I’m harder.