Forged In Death, Book 1 of The Death Wizard Chronicles by Jim Melvin Page B

few answers. She lay down on the mattress with the sword at her side. Before she slept, she tried to make sense of Vedana’s foul words.
    Don’t you know, child, what would happen  . . .
    Sōbhana thought she knew: It would be paradise. What did the demon understand that Sōbhana did not? She remembered asking Chieftain Kusala—it seemed like several lifetimes ago—why their king never shared a tent with a woman. Kusala had made it clear that Torg was dangerously sensitive about the subject.
    Vedana had hinted at something. What could it be?
    Sōbhana didn’t believe it was simply a demon’s trick.
    Finally her mind emptied of thought. Exhaustion overcame her, and she slept deeply, the sword beside her like a cold lover.
    Sōbhana spent more than a week in the cave, rarely leaving the small chamber that had become her bedroom. She ate, slept and waited. Several times a day the Mogols served her food and wine, and they also provided her with clean water and towels whenever needed.
    On the ninth night of her captivity she had a wonderful dream. Torg was kissing her on the mouth. How delicately he caressed her lips. How deliciously he entwined his sweet tongue with hers.
    In her dream she was naked, and he was upon her, breathing on her neck, licking her breasts, nibbling her belly. And then his beautiful face pressed against her pubic hair, and his tongue went between her legs.
    It was glorious.
    And all too real.
    When she opened her eyes, she recoiled. She was indeed naked, but Vedana was the one between her legs, not Torg. The demon’s tongue was as long as a snake and as black as coal. It swirled frenetically.
    Sōbhana kicked in disgust.
    Vedana tumbled to the floor. Unscathed, the demon bounced up and laughed wickedly. “Why did you stop me? You were enjoying it so much.”
    Sōbhana reached for her sword, but it was gone. The demon must have put some kind of spell on her. Otherwise the weapon could not have been removed from her side.
    “You want to fight, my beauty?” Vedana growled. “I want that too. It makes it so much sweeter.”
    The demon glowed, her flesh translucent. Sōbhana could see Vedana’s bones and bulbous heart, and it made her feel faint. Vedana was too strong, wielding magic that stole the fire from her limbs. The demon rushed toward Sōbhana, intending to defile her.
    When all seemed lost, Bhayatupa came to her rescue. A torrential fire blew through the cave, consuming the curtain of her small chamber. The demon seemed to fear the dragon flame, and she withdrew, snarling in frustration.
    “Your future has been foreseen,” she said to Sōbhana. “You would have much preferred me to the suffering that awaits you.”
    Bhayatupa’s deep voice boomed down the passageway. “Vedana! If you have harmed her  . . . ”
    The demon stepped back. This time instead of a smoky explosion, a circular black hole opened in the wall, and Vedana leapt into it. As quickly as it had appeared, the hole vanished.
    Sōbhana stood naked in the chamber, wiping tears from her eyes. She fell to her knees. Then darkness claimed her, taking her to the stronghold of nothingness.
    Sōbhana inhaled deeply. A curious aroma entered her nostrils, a wondrous combination of honey, spices and sweet smoke. Visions flowed into her mind, wave upon wave, endless in number. Civilizations rose and fell. Brave warriors lived and died. There was glory and shame. Courage and fear. Beginnings, middles, and endings.
    When she opened her eyes she lay at the mouth of the cave. Bhayatupa’s head was a finger-length away, and a tendril of smoke oozed from his nostrils to hers. She sat up so fast her face bumped against the dragon’s enormous snout.
    Bhayatupa withdrew and chuckled. “I see you have returned to the living,” he said. “Are you pleased?”
    The memory of the demon’s perverted act flooded Sōbhana’s awareness. She spat, and then stood up, leaning shakily against the stone wall. “I . . . don’t . . .