blood flowing from my hand, I ran to the fireplace, snatched up the poker, and turned to face my adversaries. Grasping the poker in both hands, I held it in front of me.
They approached. I held my ground, back to the marble fireplace, ready to smash their heads if necessary to escape. They stopped just out of range.
Zhantar smiled, and it no longer looked benevolent. “Now, Donavah, do you not think this is poor repayment of my hospitality?”
I stood breathing heavily, eyes flicking back and forth between him and Anazian.
“Come now,” he went on. “Surely you can see that your behavior is quite absurd. This is no way to treat your host and his beloved son.”
“I never told you my name,” I said. Did he think I was a complete fool?
He raised his eyebrows. “You are right, Anazian. She is a sharp one. Now, Donavah, no one needs to get hurt. Put that down, and come speak to us in a rational manner.”
I just gripped the poker tighter.
Anazian waved a hand lazily in my direction, then unclasped his black cloak and threw it over the back of a nearby chair.
The poker suddenly heated up, burning my palms. With an involuntary cry of pain, I dropped it, and it clattered loudly on the stone floor. The odor of hot metal filled the air.
Zhantar shook his head. “You are only making this harder on yourself. You must know that it is futile to try to escape. And if you keep trying, we will be obliged to make your life far more miserable than you have yet known.”
I still stood my ground, trying to ignore the pain.
“My father,” said Anazian turning to Zhantar, “let her stand there as long as she likes. The loss of blood from those cuts will weaken her soon enough. Let us sit and enjoy the spectacle.”
Oh, how I hated him. How I hated them both.
I could not give in and submit, nor would I be able to resist them long. My right hand was indeed bleeding profusely from several gashes. Even now I could feel myself weakening. I leaned back against the marble. It was cool, and I pressed my palms against it. But that didn’t really help, and I grew dizzy. I imagined I could smell my own flesh burning. I struggled to stay standing. My breath came in gasps, and Anazian laughed at me.
I don’t know how long I stood there, but as my strength waned, my hatred waxed. They might have me cornered this time, but they would never beat me down.
Eventually, I slid to the ground. Everything went black, and I passed out.
I wandered in a hazy dream world. Anazian played Talisman and Queen with Zhantar as I looked on and tried to guess their next moves. They didn’t speak as they battled it out, trying to Secure the Queen’s Heart.
Rennirt licked the blood from my hand and swelled with power, his green eyes glittering beautifully in his dark, handsome face. Grey, a knife hilt protruding from his back, held me close and tried to kiss me one last time as he died. I wept, and Chase licked my tears.
Everything went white. Anazian’s laughter filled my ears, going on and on for endless hours until I screamed for him to stop. Angry, he filled my mouth with stones that burned my tongue and stole my maejic.
Zhantar stood before me, and I pummeled his face with my fists. He simply smiled at me and offered more wine. I tried to push him away, but someone had tied my hands behind my back. He approached, and I couldn’t move. He threw the wine at me, and it etched a labyrinth into my face.
Xyla snatched Breyard from the ground and ate him, his bones crunching between her teeth. Traz beat her with his wooden staff, so she ate him, too. Then Yallick mounted her, and they flew off into the sky, where Mama and Papa danced against the backdrop of the setting sun.
I woke up back in my room, my blistered palms painful and one hand swaddled in bandages that smelled of healing herbs.
“And finally, those eyes open,” said a voice I recognized. Still a bit drowsy, I couldn’t quite place it, nor did I care to try. What I wanted was to
They approached. I held my ground, back to the marble fireplace, ready to smash their heads if necessary to escape. They stopped just out of range.
Zhantar smiled, and it no longer looked benevolent. “Now, Donavah, do you not think this is poor repayment of my hospitality?”
I stood breathing heavily, eyes flicking back and forth between him and Anazian.
“Come now,” he went on. “Surely you can see that your behavior is quite absurd. This is no way to treat your host and his beloved son.”
“I never told you my name,” I said. Did he think I was a complete fool?
He raised his eyebrows. “You are right, Anazian. She is a sharp one. Now, Donavah, no one needs to get hurt. Put that down, and come speak to us in a rational manner.”
I just gripped the poker tighter.
Anazian waved a hand lazily in my direction, then unclasped his black cloak and threw it over the back of a nearby chair.
The poker suddenly heated up, burning my palms. With an involuntary cry of pain, I dropped it, and it clattered loudly on the stone floor. The odor of hot metal filled the air.
Zhantar shook his head. “You are only making this harder on yourself. You must know that it is futile to try to escape. And if you keep trying, we will be obliged to make your life far more miserable than you have yet known.”
I still stood my ground, trying to ignore the pain.
“My father,” said Anazian turning to Zhantar, “let her stand there as long as she likes. The loss of blood from those cuts will weaken her soon enough. Let us sit and enjoy the spectacle.”
Oh, how I hated him. How I hated them both.
I could not give in and submit, nor would I be able to resist them long. My right hand was indeed bleeding profusely from several gashes. Even now I could feel myself weakening. I leaned back against the marble. It was cool, and I pressed my palms against it. But that didn’t really help, and I grew dizzy. I imagined I could smell my own flesh burning. I struggled to stay standing. My breath came in gasps, and Anazian laughed at me.
I don’t know how long I stood there, but as my strength waned, my hatred waxed. They might have me cornered this time, but they would never beat me down.
Eventually, I slid to the ground. Everything went black, and I passed out.
I wandered in a hazy dream world. Anazian played Talisman and Queen with Zhantar as I looked on and tried to guess their next moves. They didn’t speak as they battled it out, trying to Secure the Queen’s Heart.
Rennirt licked the blood from my hand and swelled with power, his green eyes glittering beautifully in his dark, handsome face. Grey, a knife hilt protruding from his back, held me close and tried to kiss me one last time as he died. I wept, and Chase licked my tears.
Everything went white. Anazian’s laughter filled my ears, going on and on for endless hours until I screamed for him to stop. Angry, he filled my mouth with stones that burned my tongue and stole my maejic.
Zhantar stood before me, and I pummeled his face with my fists. He simply smiled at me and offered more wine. I tried to push him away, but someone had tied my hands behind my back. He approached, and I couldn’t move. He threw the wine at me, and it etched a labyrinth into my face.
Xyla snatched Breyard from the ground and ate him, his bones crunching between her teeth. Traz beat her with his wooden staff, so she ate him, too. Then Yallick mounted her, and they flew off into the sky, where Mama and Papa danced against the backdrop of the setting sun.
I woke up back in my room, my blistered palms painful and one hand swaddled in bandages that smelled of healing herbs.
“And finally, those eyes open,” said a voice I recognized. Still a bit drowsy, I couldn’t quite place it, nor did I care to try. What I wanted was to
Similar Books
