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Focus on the crystal.
Iris wasn’t sure what she expected when she stepped out of the church, but an empty street wasn’t it. She knew from the snapping and crackling in the air Micah wasn’t far away, though, and somewhere in the distance, she heard the metallic clanking of armor and the steady pounding of booted feet on cobblestones.
She took a deep breath and wrapped her right hand around the amulet.
Focus on the crystal.
There was something else, something pulsing with a steady rhythm beneath the clamor of the army, something drawing her with a gentility contrasting the harsh blue tendrils of Micah’s magic. She wanted—needed—to run after it. She needed to find it.
But she held her ground. She let the repulsive blue magic lick across her skin.
A deep chuckle echoed through her mind.
Have you given up, Iris? I am disappointed. I was looking forward to trapping you in a corner and squashing your friends before your eyes.
The fear she was trying to hold at bay became a suffocating terror gripping her heart. She swallowed bile and clutched the amulet tighter. It wouldn’t protect her, but the familiarity of the whispers provided her with some comfort, indistinct and vague though their words were. Although even that was some small comfort. They weren’t telling her to go anywhere or do anything beyond focusing on the crystal. That meant she was doing the right thing by standing here, waiting for Micah.
Not that she had any doubts about that. Saving the orphans from Micah’s wrath was not just the right decision. It was the only decision.
But she was still shaking. It was still all she could do to remain upright.
She heard the clip-clop of horse’s hooves. She heard booted feet coming closer.
Focus on the crystal.
She felt the crystal pulsing in time with the pounding of her heart. This was a way to get into the castle while protecting those she loved from Micah, she reminded herself. This would get her one step closer to ending all of this.
Soldiers appeared at the end of the block, men in dull, dirty armor marching in neat, ordered rows and columns. A white horse walked amidst them, and atop that horse—
Iris swayed on her feet.
She caught herself and curled her left hand into a fist at her side. No. She would not show weakness in front of Micah.
Where did you leave your friends, Iris? He chuckled again, his frigid blue eyes locked on her as he continued prodding her mind. I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time until they come looking for you, isn’t it?
Iris hoped Char had left. She hoped he hadn’t stayed to watch this from the shadows. It wasn’t the entire army, but the small detachment was still more than he and Rath could handle in their human forms, even without Micah’s presence. There was nothing the dragons could do except get themselves injured or killed.
They came to a stop before her.
“Get her. The rest of you, search the building.”
“No!” Iris backed away as two soldiers approached her, casting frantic glances at the soldiers headed toward the church. “There’s no need to search anything. They’re gone. There are only children and a priest inside. A search would be pointless!”
Micah smirked. “Do not make me repeat myself,” he told his men.
“No!”
A wall of white sealed the front doors off as the two soldiers seized Iris’ arms. She struggled against them, refusing to release the amulet, her heart pounding a wild, erratic beat in her ears, and then Micah’s voice cut through the air.
“Anyone who leaves a mark on her dies.”
The soldiers let her go and jumped back as if she’d burned them.
“You don’t need to use force, and you don’t need to search the church,” she repeated, meeting Micah's eyes with a steely glare. “I’ll come willingly. Just leave the church and everybody inside alone.”
Micah chuckled. “And I’m supposed to take your word for that.”
She clenched her left hand at her side. “Who of us is the most trustworthy, you or me?”
He laughed. “You make a good point. Bring her here.”
She shot a glare at the hesitant soldiers. They didn’t touch her, instead walking on either side of her as she forced her shaking legs to move toward Micah and his white horse. She stopped at the horse’s left side, swallowing bile again at the thought of Micah touching her. He didn’t remove his foot from the stirrup for her to mount.
“Well?” he demanded.
A guard picked her up by the waist and lifted her up to the saddle, and then Micah’s arms were around her, positioning her side-saddle in front of him, and everything within her wanted to recoil from him. But the white wall still sealed the church door, and neither Micah nor the soldiers were attempting to break it down. That was all that mattered to her.
She flinched when Micah’s lips brushed against her ear.
Micah’s lips brushed against Iris’ ear. “If I find out you lied to me, I will personally see to the deaths of each of those children and burn that building to the ground.”
She nodded.
His breath moved away from her skin, allowing her to breathe again as he raised his voice to address his men. “Leave it. We return to the castle at once.”
Then his left hand settled on her waist, and she flinched away from him, but his right arm was behind her, holding the reins. There was nowhere to go. She set her jaw, knowing he was relishing her discomfort, refusing to look at him, keeping her eyes set straight ahead at the dark buildings.
At least there weren’t many witnesses to her humiliation.
Micah lifted his left hand from her waist to brush the tears from her cheeks. “Sweet little Iris,” he murmured. The sensation of his breath on her skin made her cringe. “I have a confession to make. I knew about the crystal, and I knew about your beloved priest sending his little street rats here. And since you are so predictable, I knew you wouldn’t be long in arriving here, either.”
She felt no surprise. She couldn't. His words only instilled a numbness in her, a numbness and hopelessness.
He rested his hand on her waist again and slid it down to her hip. “I will take you the crystal myself, in time, but we have a few matters to settle first. Your punishment, for one.”
His lips pressed into her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“I think you’ll find your new quarters quite familiar. A king’s mage from years past used the mage’s tower here at the castle as a pattern for what later became Jonah’s tower. Of course, you’ll be sharing my room now, since I need to keep a close eye on you.”
His hand rubbed up to her waist and down to her hip. She flinched away from his touch, but that only brought her up against his chest.
He chuckled. “If you want to fight me, you need to be prepared to fight. I have only to target others to force you into complete submission, and I have even more hostages to hold over you now. An entire city’s worth of them. Because it doesn’t really matter who I threaten, does it? You don’t want to see anybody harmed.”
They passed through the castle gate, under the portcullis, and into the outer courtyard. He dismounted from the horse and reached up for her, taking her by the waist and lowering her to the ground with the deceptive care that made her skin crawl.
He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. “I have a great many questions for you, Iris, and I expect answers.”
She nodded.
He kissed her temple again and stepped back, taking her right wrist in his hand. She released the amulet. She couldn’t feel the crystal’s pulse anymore, anyway, and what good had it done her so far?
None. It only brought her pain.
She kept her head down as they walked, staring at the rough cobblestones that gave way to a plush red carpet spread across a marble floor. After a while, the smooth, tan marble transitioned to creamy, off-white stone stairs polished to a brilliant shine. She trudged after him as they climbed the spiral staircase, the amulet a heavy weight around her neck. Flickering flames lit the way from wall sconces she didn’t bother to examine.
There was nothing new here. It might look different, but it was all the same. At the top of these stairs was the same study, the same table, the same potions, the same straps.
The same torment.
He opened the study door and led her to the table. His hands came around her waist again, and he lifted her onto it. He caught her chin in his fingers and tilted her face up to look at him. His blue eyes were as cold as a frozen lake; the fingers brushing her tears away were too warm to belong to that dispassionate expression.
“How has your magic been growing, Iris?”
A hollowness settled in her chest. If she told him, he would find a way to stop it. But there was no point in hiding it. She couldn’t fight him, anyway. She couldn't win this. She would never win this.
“When the extraction starts, the past bearers call to me. I focus on them, and they pull me out of it. Then they talk to me and teach me.”
“And you’ve learned how to do this at other times as well.”
She nodded.
“Hm.”
He released her chin and turned away, crossing the room to the shelf of potions so similar to the one in Jonah's tower. She watched in silence as he selected a small vial of clear liquid and a jar holding a thick, bright blue substance, then carried both to the desk piled high with books and papers. He poured a glass of water and added a single drop from the vial. The cloud of smoke dissipated to reveal the rich burgundy liquid she knew all too well. Then he unscrewed the jar lid, and a foul smell filled the air.
Iris wrinkled her nose, her stomach turning at the thought of ingesting that. He seemed unaffected.
He spooned a tiny amount of the blue into the jar and stirred, silver clinking against glass, until the rich burgundy became a deep purple. Then he tapped the spoon against the glass and set it on the table, and he screwed the lid to seal off the foul blue substance.
“You must understand I can’t allow such activity to continue. This should stop the screaming as well.”
He brought her the glass, and she took it from him, her hand shaking. The potion smelled sweet and fruity, like strawberry jam. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and drank it. It tasted like strawberry jam, too.
He took the glass from her and pushed her back onto the table. She kept her eyes closed as he tightened the straps, and then she felt his fingers on her chest, picking up the amulet.
“You know, I’ve become quite fond of you, Iris.”
The flames were licking at her heart; the darkness was tugging at her mind.
“You provide something I so rarely encounter: a challenge.”
The potion had sealed her lips shut, killing the screams in her throat.
“And I love the rush of your magic in my veins.”
The darkness yanked her down; the flames engulfed her; the silence was deafening. There were no whispers to call out to her. Her body broke through the immobilization of the potion, driven by overwhelming pain to struggle against the bonds, but the leather cut into her skin and added to the pain. She was trapped inside herself, forced to feel every agonizing moment, unable to make a sound.
And she knew this was just the beginning of what he had planned for her.7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiEsMabQGdR
