"I've dreamed of this day a hundred times, a thousand. Sitting beside Ethen's bed, I watched you die over and over. This, Sabat, this is a mercy compared to some of the things I contemplated doing to you." She toyed with the handle of the clay pitcher. "And yet, I never imagined how satisfying this would feel!"
Her face contorted into a mask of animal rage and she smashed the jar into his face. Cartilage crunched beneath the impact of shattering crockery. Wine splashed over him, mixing with the blood dripping from his lips and nose.
"And you weren't content to just take Ethen from me, oh no!" She knelt atop his chest, teeth bared in a snarl. "But you went too far.”
Reaching beneath the stuffed cushions, she drew a knife—one of the dozens of weapons she'd hidden around the house in the last months. A shocked gasp escaped Sabat's lips. Recognition flashed in his eyes, replaced a moment later by fear.
A wicked smile played on Ilanna's lips. "Oh yes, you recognize this, don't you? How many years did you wear it? How long did you dream of finding a chance to slip it between my ribs as payment for what I did to you?" She caressed the razor-sharp blade, her fingers tracing the simple pommel and the leather-wrapped grip. "But when you couldn’t do it, you had to find someone else to punish."
She closed her hand around the dagger and squeezed. The edge bit into her palm. The rage coursing through her drowned out the pain. She held her hand over his face. Blood splashed into his eyes, staining his pale skin. He tried to wipe it away, but the poison sapped his strength.
Ilanna dug her knee into his throat. "You took him from me, you bastard! Now I'm going to take something from you." Sabat gagged and choked, pawing weakly at her.
Seizing his grasping right hand, she pressed the edge of the dagger into his forearm. He screamed as the blade carved a deep furrow in his flesh. Blood gushed from the wound.
Ilanna pressed his left hand over the wound. "There you go. Don't want you bleeding to death. Not yet." Climbing to her feet, she walked around to kneel between his spasming legs.
She met his gaze, and terror filled Sabat's eyes. He tried in vain to form words, but his tongue had swollen and turned blue. Weak spasms shook his body; the poison she'd slipped into his drink—Ethen called it ricin—did its terrible work.
She raised the dagger. "You're going to feel everything, every ache, every pain, every cut." The knife plunged into the meat of his thigh, eliciting a weak moan. "But do you know what the best part is? There won't be a Keeper-damned thing you can do to stop it!"
The blade sliced through his trousers. Sabat's eyes widened and he shook his head. "D…don't…"
Baring her teeth in a snarl, Ilanna pushed the dagger slowly into the soft flesh between his legs. Sabat's weak cries turned into a scream; a long, terror-filled wail of agony. She met his gaze without wavering, rage burning in her chest. With a scream of fury, Ilanna twisted the dagger and ripped it free. Blood pooled beneath Sabat and he convulsed in agony. He lay helpless, too weak to fight back.
She stared at the misshapen, lumpy objects in her hand. "So these are what you men are so proud of?" She crouched over him, dangling them above his head. "Not much to look at, you know."
Sabat blubbered in agony and terror. Blood streamed from his nose, mixing with the gore dripping from his severed manhood.
She met his gaze, pouring every shred of hatred and anger into her words. "You will find no mercy here, you bastard!"
He tried to form words through his broken lips and swollen tongue.
Ilanna smashed the dagger's pommel into his face, again and again. Flesh and bone crunched beneath her blows. The pressure in her chest built until it felt as if her heart would explode. Sabat's weak cries and wet coughs only goaded her to further rage. She climbed atop him, kneeling on his chest, dagger raised high.
Her words came out in a whisper. "This is for Ethen."
The dagger descended, plunging into the flesh of Sabat's meaty shoulder. She pulled it out slowly, relishing the groan that escaped Sabat's lips. The knife came down again, a finger's breadth from his heart. Tears streamed down her face. Again. Blood sprayed from Sabat's torn throat.
Over and over, she drove the blade into Sabat's body. His face, his neck, his chest—all carved to bloody ribbons beneath her terrible blade. With each plunge of the knife, Ilanna unleashed her hatred, anger and fear. But nothing could erase the image of Ethen's broken form from her mind.
She did this for Ethen, but it was for her, too. After this, no one would ever lay a finger on her again. No one would ever harm her as Sabat had. She would never be weak or helpless again. She would do what she must, even if it meant carving her way through a thousand Sabats.
This was how she survived.
Epilogue
"Journeyman Ilanna of House Hawk, you understand why we have called you here?"
She knew full well. She could never forget. The memory replayed in her mind. She heard Sabat's wheezing pleas for mercy, saw the bright blood spurting from his ruined face, felt the dagger pierce him over and over. Rage had drowned out rational thought. She'd carved him to ribbons, plunging the knife into his flesh long after he'd stopped moving.
Yet now, her fury abated, only disgust remained. Not at herself or her actions, but at him for everything he'd done. At the Night Guild for allowing it to happen. These men before her forced her hand; the fault for Sabat's death rested on their heads.
She met the Guild Master's eyes. "Yes, Master Gold." Her words came out cold as ice, hard as iron. She had no reason to bow and scrape. They had nothing on her.
Master Hawk studied her through narrowed eyes. Master Serpent cleaned his nails with a dagger. Even Master Bloodbear showed little eagerness to continue with the proceedings.
Master Gold leaned forward. "And have you aught to say in your defense?"
"Defense?" She struggled to keep her expression neutral. These men—the House Masters of the Night Guild—had permitted Sabat to act unchecked. How dare they stand in judgement of me! But she couldn't allow them to see her true feelings. She bowed to hide her disdain. "I have done nothing wrong, Master."
Master Gold nodded. "Indeed."
He steepled his fingers. "According to guild law, one cannot raise a hand against a fellow member. Should you be found guilty of this crime, it would mean death."
Ilanna stood tall, head high. Only if you can find the proof. No one but Ethen had known of the garden. No one could possibly know what now lay buried beneath the patch of earth where her violas had once bloomed.
The Guild Master shook his head. "After a thorough investigation, the House Masters can find no proof that you are in any way responsible for the disappearance of the apprentice, Sabat, of House Bloodbear."
It is the law of the guild: don't get caught.
"Before you are acquitted, Journeyman, will you swear an oath before the Watcher in the Dark that you are innocent and blameless?" The Guild Master narrowed his eyes. "Think carefully! Bearing false testimony is an abomination to the Watcher, god of justice."
Ilanna hesitated only a moment. Her fear of the gods had faded long ago. She'd called out to the Bright Lady, but the goddess had ignored her pleas. Why would any of the other gods care now?
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I swear, before the Watcher in the Dark and his servants of the Night Guild, that I am innocent."
Master Gold's mouth pressed into a tight line. "Then so be it. Ilanna of House Hawk, you are acquitted of all charges. You may go."
Ilanna nodded. "Thank you, Master Gold. House Masters." With a deep bow, she turned to leave.
Master Bloodbear leaned over to Master Grubber and his harsh whisper reached her. "Never liked the bastard much. Vicious little cunt he was, but useless otherwise." Master Grubber shrugged and replied in a voice too low for her to hear.
Ilanna's stomach twisted as the double doors of the Menagerie closed behind her. So cruel, so callous. The way they spoke of Sabat's death, they could have been talking about a poorly-prepared meal or a
bout of illness. She could expect no less from men who thieved, extorted, and murdered for a living.
Denber, Werrin, Willem, and Prynn leapt to their feet as she exited the room. Worry twisted their expressions.
Ilanna nodded and forced a grin. "I am acquitted."
Relieved smiles broke out on their faces. Prynn clapped his hands and Werrin slapped her on the back. "I knew you couldn't do something like that! Not our Ilanna."
Ilanna hid a grimace. Her skin crawled at Werrin's touch, but she couldn't let it show. It's not his fault. How could she tell them that their very presence reminded her of what Sabat had done to her? That hearing their voices still sent shivers of fear down her spine. Her nails dug into her arms. There's no way he could understand. None of them could.
"Come on, Ilanna," Willem tugged on her arm. "Let's go celebrate."
Ilanna shook her head and slipped free of his grasp. "I would, but I'm feeling a bit tired." A wave of nausea washed over her. "Tomorrow, I promise. But don't let that stop you from hoisting a pint in my honor."
"Right!" Werrin threw his arm around Prynn and Willem, dragging them away. "You heard her! First round's on me."
Denber lagged behind the others. "I'm glad you got through this."
"Thank you." Her shoulders hunched and she hugged herself. "I'll…I'll be fine."
"Do you want to join the Scorpions? They're taking Ethen's body to the—"
"I'll be fine, Denber." Though it sent a shiver down her spine, she squeezed his hand. "I…I've said farewell."
With a nod, Denber hurried after the others.
Ilanna stood alone in the tunnels, her stomach in knots, her heart thundering. The image of Sabat's shredded face—unrecognizable after what she'd done—remained fixed in her mind's eye. She swallowed a rising flood of acid.
A deep voice sounded behind her. "Ilanna."
She whirled, hands raised in a defensive stance.
Master Gold raised an eyebrow. "A bit jumpy, are we, Journeyman?"
Ilanna swallowed. "Sorry, Master Gold. After what happened…"
The Guild Master nodded, dismissing it with a wave. "Of course. Hard to believe something like that could happen in these very halls."
She stifled a shudder. The tone of his voice made it sound so commonplace. She hadn't been the first victim in the Night Guild…nor the last. "What can I do for you, Master Gold?"
"Nothing, Journeyman. I just wanted to congratulate you on your acquittal. I'm sure it was…well-deserved."
"As you said, Master Gold, I was proven innocent." She took any remaining shred of worry, hesitation, or doubt and shoved it into a hard ball of ice in the pit of her stomach. She had nothing to fear from these men.
"Yes." He stroked his chin, a half-smile on his lips. "Though lack of proof and proof of innocence are two different matters."
Ilanna's stomach bottomed out. Could he know? Impossible! Only one person knew where I was going and he'd never tell.
Master Gold smiled and clapped her on the back. "Come, Ilanna, enough solemnity! You have been acquitted and that is cause for celebration. I'm sure your fellow Hawks will—"
She shied away from the contact. "Thank you, Master Gold, but I'm feeling rather unwell at the moment. After all the excitement, I could use a rest."
"Of course, of course." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and, placing his face close to her ear, spoke in a low whisper. "You did the right thing, you know. Decisive, ruthless, cunning—I could use an ally like you for what is coming."
Ilanna studied him, trying to hide her surprise, fear, and revulsion. "Th-Thank you, Master Gold."
With a nod, the Guild Master patted her on the shoulder and disappeared down the tunnel.
She shuddered. What in the twisted hell was that? Master Gold hadn't just hinted that he knew what she had done—he'd actually seemed to approve! It served as further proof he and the House Masters knew the truth of Sabat's…disappearance. They simply didn't care.
Acid burned the back of her throat as she hurried through the tunnels toward House Hawk. The corridors seemed unnaturally full at this hour of the day. Dozens of Journeymen and apprentices from all the Houses lined the passages, even in places they had no business being. Almost as if they wanted to see her.
Errik stood with a group of apprentice Serpents. She met his eyes and he nodded. He had no reason to betray her. Indeed, his assistance in her Undertaking had earned him fame among his fellow Serpents. He would take her secret to the grave.
She had no regrets over what she'd done. It had been necessary to survive in the Night Guild. But her actions had changed everything. The Journeymen and apprentices stared at her with a mixture of awe and fear.
So this is what it takes to be accepted into the Night Guild. It made her sick. She managed to stumble into House Hawk and find her way to the latrines before emptying the contents of her stomach.
* * *
Ilanna eyed the steaming cup in Journeyman Tyman's hand.
"Black cohosh, leaf of tansy, cotton root bark, pennyroyal, and a few other things of my own creation. It should clear the…problem right up."
She swallowed hard and took the proffered draught. "Th-Thank you, Journeyman Tyman."
Tyman raised an eyebrow. "Be warned: this will not be easy. There is no telling what effect the herbs will have on your body."
Ilanna read the unspoken words in his eyes. This could be fatal. She nodded. "I understand the risks, Journeyman. I am prepared to accept whatever comes."
Shrugging, Tyman packed his bag and strode toward the exit. He paused with his hand on the door. "Ethen. He was a good lad, you know." He spoke without turning. "One of the best we've ever had."
A lump rose in Ilanna's throat. "Th-Thank you, Journeyman…" Her voice cracked.
The door closed softly behind Journeyman Tyman. A flood of emotion washed over Ilanna. Her outward show of strength crumbled beneath her despair and grief. The pressure in her chest increased until it burst in a torrent of tears.
She was alone. Ethen had left her alone. Alone to face what came next, to deal with the repercussions of the horrors visited upon her by that monster Sabat.
Ilanna seized the cup of tea, heedless of the pain from the steaming liquid. She lifted it to her lips. Drink it, she told herself, and it will all be over. If the draught killed her, so be it. If not, she could return to her life in the Night Guild.
And what life is that? What life could I possibly have here?
After all these years, she'd finally found her place in the Guild. Her years of toil had paid off. The Journeymen of House Hawk—of all the Houses—had accepted her as one of them. Indeed, they held her, a newly minted Journeyman, in higher esteem than many of the seniors. She'd done the impossible and conquered the Black Spire. Truth be told, she had come to enjoy the newfound respect—and fear—in the Guild members' eyes. It felt good to belong.
But how could she live among men who not only condoned cruelty, but encouraged it? The Night Guild hadn't lifted a finger when Sabat had beaten her, broken her, and violated her in the worst way possible. They'd carried out a half-hearted investigation into Sabat's disappearance—no, his murder. She slammed her fist into the wall. It was a sick, twisted mockery of justice.
Her reputation bred fear and respect among her peers. That fear would protect her, would shield her from people like Sabat. She'd shown them what she was capable of. Now, no one would dare lay a finger on her. She would never be a victim again. It didn't matter what she had to do, she would make certain of it.
Especially now. Now that she had a life growing inside her. But the Night Guild is no place for a child! Wouldn’t it be better to end it all now? It would be kinder than forcing the child to endure everything she had.
Her hands trembled, setting the tea sloshing as she brought the cup to her lips. The pungent odor of the draught twisted her stomach. She gritted her teeth against a wave of nausea. Just a few gulps and it will be over. She could leave behind the horrors perpetrat
ed upon her. This last vestige of her tormentor would be forever erased.
No. I can't do it! With a snarl, she hurled the cup away. The clay shattered, splashing the contents across the wall. It's all I have left of Ethen.
He'd died that night, the same night the life within her had been conceived. She didn't care how it had happened. All that mattered was what the child represented. It would remind her of what she'd lost, her way to remember the one good thing in her miserable, wretched world.
She held up her hands, studying the raw, scalded flesh. She welcomed the pain; it proved she could still feel. A towering inferno of anger and hatred had burned in her chest since that night. She'd unleashed her fury upon Sabat and an empty ache had replaced her rage. Now, she had a reason to live.
"I will live one more day," she whispered. She ran a hand over her stomach. "You will live one more day."
Grim determination filled her, drying up the flow of tears. She knew what she had to do: I will find a way out. I won't let a child grow up in a place like this. The Night Guild had allowed a monster like Sabat to get away with his actions. There would be more like him—or worse. She knew what people were capable of and she wouldn't let her child share her fate. It didn't matter how much she had to steal or how many people she had to kill; she would find a way out. I will be free.
Wiping her cheeks on her sleeves, Ilanna gazed around the empty bunk room. It wouldn't be her home for much longer.
Something caught her eye: a parcel on the floor.
Heart thundering, Ilanna leapt to her feet. Keeper's teeth! It hadn't been there when Journeyman Tyman left, had it? She hadn't heard the door open or close. No one had entered the room. So how the hell did it get there?
Cold fingers of dread twisted in her gut. Pulse racing, she fumbled at the twine bow and pulled back the layers of cloth.
She gasped and recoiled as a severed thumb fell from the bundle. She barely noticed it; her eyes were fixed on the other object within the folds of cloth.
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