by Lisa Cassidy
Alyx pulled uselessly against iron. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care whether you do or not.” He shrugged and took another sip of the wine. “It’s only a matter of time before I have your friends in custody as well. I know exactly where they are.”
Alyx said nothing, merely stared at him. If he was telling the truth, then they were lost. If he wasn’t… then talking wasn’t going to help her situation. Her mind fixated on his words—yesterday he’d met with the king. So he couldn’t have taken her too far, not in a day. She was still close to the city, possibly somewhere in the hills around the palace if the trees she glimpsed outside were anything to go by.
Casovar looked at her with open amusement. “All I need to do before I kill you all is find out exactly how much you know, and who else knows it.”
“It sounds like you know everything already.”
He moved even closer, raising one fingertip to trace her cheek and jaw. She refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting, even though his touch made her skin crawl. “So pretty. But I need to be sure who knows about Shakar, of course.”
“Never heard of him.”
He chuckled. “I almost believed you then, Alyx.”
He moved his hand to her jaw, then clamped it around her throat. She choked, struggling for air. His hold only tightened.
“I’m fairly confident you haven’t gone to the council yet.” He chuckled. “Smart—they’d never believe you without proof. I was concerned you’d sent that pureblood council mage with a message, but I took care of that problem. Who else knows?”
She tried to swallow, choked, shook her head. Her heartbeat thudded in her eardrums. Worry for Cario temporarily replaced her fear. What had Casovar done to him?
“I suppose you’ll never tell me willingly,” he murmured in her ear. “It’s just as well I’m a mage of the higher order.”
His magic invaded her mind without warning, his pleasure in the pain he caused evident. Alyx screamed soundlessly at the agonising pain that shot through her skull. He ravaged through her thoughts and memories, ripping and tearing, looking for what he wanted. It was so sudden and so violent she almost couldn’t react in time. But she did. Heedless of the pain and violation, she took her knowledge about Shakar, about Brynn’s message to the council, and the core of her magic, and retreated, shrinking away from Casovar into the tiniest amount of awareness that she could manage.
Once that was hidden away, she simply endured as he tortured her, sensing first his pleasure at what he was doing, then his frustration when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Soundless tears streaked down her cheeks.
After what seemed like an eternity, he withdrew, letting go of her throat and stepping away.
Alyx sagged against the manacles holding her wrists. It took her a moment to realise the whimpering sound she could hear was coming from her. Her throat was bruised and sore and a pounding headache tore through her skull.
“I can keep at this for some time,” Casovar said conversationally. “How long can you last before you go mad, I wonder?”
“I don’t know anything,” she whispered. “You saw that.”
He reached up and backhanded her across the face. Her head slammed back into the wall, and she couldn’t stop the cry of pain that burst out of her. Warm blood trickled down her cheek from the gash he’d opened up, mixing with her tears.
“I know what you are!” he raged at her, momentarily losing his calm. “You think you’ve been so clever, hiding it from me, but he knew.”
“I’m a second-year apprentice with barely any training,” she whispered through the pain. Shakar knew she was a mage of the higher order, but he hadn’t done what Casovar was doing now—he didn’t know her deepest thoughts, the depth of her training or knowledge. Maybe she could convince him she was no threat.
Casovar studied her, his cool expression slowly rebuilding—piece by piece—over his face, covering the rage within. “Then you know you can’t stop me learning what I want to know.”
His words sounded fuzzy, and she blinked, trying to keep her groggy thoughts in order.
“Maybe I should talk to your father?” he continued. “How long do you think he would last watching you in agony?”
“Leave him alone!”
He hit her again, and Alyx tasted blood inside her mouth. Consciousness faded, the world turning blurry. This time when he tore into her mind it was harder to hide. Her strength was fading rapidly, but she held desperately to that tiny core of knowledge, protecting it, forced to let him tear through the rest of her mind unhindered.
Her heart broke when he reached the memories of Dashan and their time together, and she felt his scorn and amusement.
“He will die too,” Casovar whispered into her mind. “Slowly, I think. Maybe I will even let you watch.”
Even if Alyx had wanted to fight back now, she no longer had the strength for it. He was slowly destroying her mind. Any residual strength she had left was needed to keep from him the depth of what she was and what she knew.
“It’s a shame the council brainwashed you with their fear of the Taliath,” he chuckled, and it was like razor blades in her skull. “He could have made you invulnerable to me. I’ve yet to have success absorbing that particular ability. I’d thought the loving bond of father and daughter might... but Jenna proved a spectacular failure there as well.”
Eventually he released her again. Alyx’s eyes slid closed, and she wished desperately for the pain to go away, almost wishing he would kill her and be done with it. Nausea flooded her, and it was an effort not to be sick all over the floor. His violation had been complete.
“I’ll be back later,” he told her, before walking out the door.
Alyx spent the remainder of the night and most of the following morning hanging from the wall. Nobody brought food or water. By the time midday sunlight shone through the single window, she was feverish and sick. Her head ached, the muscles in her arms burned from the painful position they were in, and her old shoulder injury throbbed unceasingly.
She drifted in and out of consciousness for hours, and each time she woke, she was less and less sure that she was going to survive. Casovar was going to kill her, and likely her father and Sparky too. She’d been an idiot to ever think they could best him.
In one of her more lucid moments, she tried once again to work out where she was, but it was useless. She didn’t recognise the building she was in, and had no way of knowing how far Casovar had brought her while she was unconscious. Tarrick and the twins would search for her, but Casovar would be expecting that. He wouldn’t have taken her anywhere they could find. Besides, they were more than likely on the run themselves, trying to keep from being caught.
When the lord-mage finally returned that afternoon, he was positively gleeful.
“Not much of a Taliath, your Shiven half-blood.” Casovar moved in close, breath warm against her face. She shuddered, physically ill at the sensation. “He tried to escape, of course, but it took less than six hours for the Mage Guard I sent to find him.”
Alyx stared ahead, glassy-eyed, refusing to react to Casovar’s words.
“My men say he barely put up a fight,” Casovar murmured in her ear. “Perhaps he knew he would soon die.”
If she had any strength left, the grief and fear she felt at those words would have sparked her magic then. But it lay there trapped inside her, unable to be used. Even if she could, her head was too foggy, her body too sore, his domination over her too complete.
Oh, Dashan, I’m so sorry.
“Ah, you’ve noticed I see?” His eyes flickered to the manacles. “I have been so looking forward to trying them out. The metal has been infused with the power of a mage who can block all magic. Isn’t that an ironic creature?”
Alyx swallowed.
“My only dilemma now is who I should kill first,” Casovar continued. “Your father, your lover, or your friends?”
“I will never bow to you,” Alyx manag
ed to whisper through her tortured throat.
He moved quickly, backhanding her across the face and then invading her mind.
“Please, no,” she whimpered, but her revulsion only added to his pleasure.
This time he wasn’t looking for anything—he was only interested in causing her as much agony as he could without killing her. When he was finished, Alyx was barely conscious and inwardly screaming with pain. She sagged against the wall, wondering if she was dying. Part of her hoped she was.
He stepped back. “You will bow to me, Lady Egalion. When I take you to watch them die, when I force you to choose who dies first, then you will bow to me. You will plead and beg for their lives, and you will tell me everything you know.”
Alyx looked away. “No.”
“Yes.” He opened the door. “I’ll be back for you soon. Then we’ll see which one of us is right.”
This time when he left, three Mage Guard entered the room. One of them was Dunnat.
He smiled at her.
Alyx barely processed his appearance through the pain still burning in her head, the soreness of her body. Footsteps sounded as he left the room, then returned. Then he was suddenly right in front of her, putting a cup of water to her mouth. Alyx managed to swallow a couple of mouthfuls before Dunnat smirked and tossed the remaining water in her face.
A scraping sounded as he drew his knife from his sheath, then her entire body convulsed as a white-hot line of fire opened up along her left forearm. She screamed.
“You should tell the lord-mage what he wants to know,” Dunnat murmured in her ear, twisting the knife in her flesh before withdrawing it.
Alyx said nothing, her breath sobbing in mingled pain and fear. After a long moment Dunnat stepped away and wiped his knife on her robe before sheathing it.
“Think on what I said, Lady Egalion.”
Chapter 33
When Alyx drifted back to consciousness, it was to the sounds of running feet and shouting outside. Pain swamped her, both mental and physical. Someone had torn a strip off her tunic to bind the wound on her arm, but it had been carelessly done, and blood dripped slowly to the floor. She tried to stop a groan, and as a distraction, looked over at the window. The darkness outside told her it was still night, though she had no way of knowing how long it would be until dawn.
Dunnat and the two men inside the room with her drew their swords, but made no move to leave. Clearly their orders were to stay with her. That meant there were probably more Mage Guard outside. Casovar hadn’t been careless with her security.
The door to the room shuddered and splintered as someone kicked it. A second kick and the whole thing came flying inwards, sending one of the waiting soldiers crashing to the floor.
Then there was a Taliath inside the room. His usual too-serious face was calm with a perfect focus she’d never seen as his sword rang through the air, the speed and grace of his movements belying his silvering hair. He moved so quickly that he was literally a blur to her groggy vision. Dunnat died first, his head almost severed from his neck. The other two men died seconds later, before they’d even had time to register what was happening.
“Alyx?”
“Papa?” she whispered, staring at him in disbelief. He stood in a classic swordsman’s stance, tall and proud and so much more than she’d ever seen him. The sword he held... it was a match for the one at DarkSkull, the one whose beauty had so riveted her. He ran to her, sheathing the magnificent sword at his hip in one smooth movement.
“Are you all right?”
“Hurts...” she managed.
“It’s going to be all right, Aly-girl.” Garan tugged at the manacles binding her wrists. “Tarrick!”
Her father’s bellow did nothing to prevent Alyx drifting back towards unconsciousness. She fought it, knowing there was something she had to ask, had to know, but not quite able to grasp it.
“I’ve got it.” Tarrick’s calm, measured voice sounded nearby.
“Quickly. She’s bleeding badly.”
Alyx, fading, was dragged back by her father’s sharp voice. Her eyes flickered open.
“I can’t touch them.” Tarrick sounded confused. “My magic just… it won’t touch the manacles.”
“Allow me.”
Alyx was sure she must be hallucinating Cario’s familiar acerbic voice, the sight of him raising a hand and calling the keys tucked in Dunnat’s tunic straight to his hand. He tossed them to Tarrick, who quickly stepped forward to unlock the manacles.
She fell, but was caught in her father’s arms before hitting the ground. He cradled her gently to his chest. The blackness closed in, and she fought for a moment’s clarity.
“Papa…” It took such an effort to speak. Dashan? But the words wouldn’t come.
“Shush, Aly-girl, it’s all going to be all right.”
She allowed her head to slump into his chest as he carried her out of the room. Dead Mage Guard bodies littered the larger room outside and Cayr stood where the front door had once been, his sword drawn and bloodied.
“Is she all right?” he demanded.
“She’s badly hurt, but it’s hard to tell the extent of it here,” Garan replied. “We need to get her out.”
“Follow me,” Tarrick said, moving off at a run down the hall.
Unable to hold on to consciousness any longer, Alyx allowed the blackness to claim her.
She awoke cocooned in warm blankets on a soft bed. Her body was sore and tired—the gash in her forearm throbbing in time with her heartbeat—but her thoughts were clearer and the pain in her head had receded to a dull ache. It took another moment to remember what had happened. The flood of memory and emotion that triggered had her curling up in the bed, mouth opening in a silent scream.
“Aly-girl?”
Her father’s voice. He’d come for her. She was safe. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. He was sitting in a chair by the bed, eyes dark with concern.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.” Her eyes fell on the sword sheathed at his waist. “You came for me.”
“I will always come for you.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”
“You were amazing.”
“Not as much as others.” He smiled.
She hesitated. “Papa, is Dashan... Casovar said he’d…”
His hand reached out to take hers. “He’s fine, I promise you.”
Relief swamped her. She sagged back against the pillows, wanting to ask more, but forestalled by the door opening.
“Alyx!” Finn appeared at the door. His shoulders were slumped and his face was drawn, but there was a light in his eyes at the sight of her awake. All the anger that had raged between them recently was gone in the concern that spilled out of him and her relief at seeing him standing there.
“I’m alive.” She pushed herself up on the pillows, wincing as she forgot the wound in her forearm and tried to put weight on it. “And I’m guessing that’s due to you, once again. Thank you.”
His gaze furrowed. “You were in a bad way.”
“Yeah.” When she glanced down, it was to find her hands were trembling. Remembered terror swept over her and it took a moment for her to get her emotions under control. “Where are we?”
“A safe house in the city, far from the palace.” Tarrick entered the room. “Dawn and Cario are on watch outside. Nobody’s looking for us in this part of the city yet.”
“Cario?” Alyx asked. “I didn’t imagine him?”
“No, you didn’t,” Finn said. “But that’s a story for another time. You need rest.”
“Wait… how did you find me?”
“Brynn. He spent a lot of time following Casovar around these past months—he knew that isolated hut was a place Casovar liked to keep prisoners.”
She swallowed. The questions were piling up now, all desperate to come out. “Brynn’s back? What about Cayr? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine,” Garan soothed. “Casovar knows of his
role in your escape, so he’s keeping clear of the palace for now. None of us really thinks the king is that far gone he’d order his son’s death, but I’m sure Casovar isn’t above organizing an ‘accident’.”
“Papa, no you don’t understand.” She lurched upwards. “Casovar is using magic on him, to force the king to his will. I walked in on him doing it, Jenna too, that’s why he took me.”
Garan’s face turned grim at her words, but he soothed her nonetheless. “If that’s true we’ll keep Cayr safe here. Stop worrying, and rest.”
“I owe you all my life,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“It’s dangerous to stay here too long. We’ve maybe got another day or two at most before Casovar’s men discover us here.” Garan stood. “We’ll leave you to get some sleep.”
There was a knock at the door down the hall. Tarrick and Finn disappeared out the door, Finn with a small wave in Alyx’s direction.
“Rest.” Her father touched her shoulder, and followed the others out.
She slid back down under the covers once they were gone, pulling the quilt up and over her head so that she was in darkness.
Dashan was all right. Clinging to that as a talisman against the memories that threatened to floor her once again, Alyx closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
Instead, all she could see was the pleasure written on Casovar’s face as he tore through her mind.
When Alyx woke from a restless doze and pushed back the quilt, the quality of the light coming through the window told her it was late afternoon. Cario sat in a chair in the opposite corner of the room, long legs stretched out before him. He looked like he was asleep, but when Alyx stirred, his blue eyes opened instantly.
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I feel better than I did.” And she did. The few hours’ sleep had done her a world of good. “You came back.”
He shifted in his chair. Glanced down. Looked back up to meet her eyes. “Casovar sent his goons after me. It must have taken them a while to track me down because I was two weeks on the road before it happened. I killed them all.” He flicked at a piece of lint on his breeches, the casual gesture belying how he must have felt about that. “I knew if he was willing to come after me—a formal representative of the council and grandson to a councillor—it wouldn’t be long before he moved against you.”