Bound by Darkness (Bound By Series)

17. Bitter Vices

Chapter 17

Bitter Vices

MORIA

Morning announced itself with torrential rain that plopped to the ground in thick globs, shrouding the mountain in a hazy mist. Droplets plunked against my wet skin, my feet slipping with each step as I descended from the mountain cave.

The upturned dirt churned to mud that clung to the soles of my feet.

The path narrowed as slaves huddled close for warmth, frost hugging each exhale in the Galar mountain range as the rain bit colder than Raha during Solstice.

Walking down the torrential path, my foot slipped on a particularly slick patch of mud, nearly careening me over the edge as a few rocks broke from the winding path.

My breath caught in my lungs as I straightened.

One slip and I’d tumble over the edge of Galar’s cliffs. There would be no surviving. My body would splatter like one of my father’s paintings.

Being extra careful of where I stepped, I glanced between the ground and the people in front of me. We moved as one body… one massive collection as the path widened into the heart of the mountain.

It made the trek dangerous, but it was a necessary evil for food and water.

Something hard slammed into me, my head throbbing as I rubbed the tender spot. The line had stopped moving, and I had collided with the man in front of me, his shirt adhering to his skeleton frame; water pooled in the dips of his collarbones.

Rain dripped from my eyelashes as I curved my head around the tall figure. There was nothing among the fog and rain as it smacked into the earth.

Nothing .

It also didn’t help I was the shortest one here, my head barely meeting the man’s lower torso. I hated being short for two reasons—no one took me seriously, and it made me an easy target for men to prey on.

“Hurry up!” someone screamed from behind, their voice echoing above the collective mass.

“Why have we stopped?” I muttered, my eyes scanning the area. The mist made it increasingly difficult to see as if I was looking through smudged glass.

“I’m not sure,” the man I collided with replied. His eyes squinted as he brushed water from his face.

Murmuring increased around me as people talked amongst themselves, mostly upset the line wasn’t moving. I couldn’t help but agree. It was bad enough they had us toiling in the mines for hours. Now we had to wait underneath the rain? Rain soaking into my pores and bones?

My teeth clattered as I crossed my arms over my chest for heat. That was hard to find nowadays. And sometimes, I even found myself missing the prison. Missing the endless lovers who came into my cell. At least they brought warmth and food. The guards here brought nothing but cuts and bruises.

A piercing shriek tore my mind from my thoughts.

It wasn’t unusual to hear screams, especially not near the cliffs. But as another echo of shouts rippled through the crowd, my heart drummed against my ribcage.

The man in front of me took a step back, the red clay squishing underneath the weight of his soles. “We?—”

A flash of red and brown caught my eye as a woman slipped over the mountain edge.

Her hands flailed in the open air as the wind sucked her into the abyss, her voice echoing off the jagged rocks.

A shove to my shoulder knocked me over, my hand reaching to steady myself against anything solid.

It met flesh as another shout echoed through the mist.

What was going on?

Sure, it was common for a few unlucky prisoners to lose their footing, but this was different. These prisoners were escaping from something as another flung off the edge to death herself.

“We need to move back!” the man boomed above the crowd, his back pressing into my palm. “Move!”

He turned around, his bony fingers gripping my wrist as he shoved me forward into the frenzy.

My arm slapped into the nearest body.

He bounded up the slippery hill, his fingers shoving and yanking on any available flesh.

He knew it too.

Everyone did.

Panic ensued on the mountain edge as prisoners from every angle propelled themselves upward and away from the screaming below.

The mist covered it all except the horrid sounds. I needed to get away. I needed? —

Mud coated my tongue as I slapped into the ground, feet stomping and daring to crush my body into the seeping cold. My arms covered my head in a desperate attempt to protect what little remained of myself.

My feet curled to my chest as I waited—waited until the movement stopped. A yelp left my mouth as my hair yanked to the side, prying my head from beneath my arms.

My eyes opened, rain threatening to drown each one as I stared at the open sky?—

At the flashes of black and blue tangling with the mist itself.

The first flash veered left, slamming into the back of an unsuspecting man. Blue light erupted from his chest.

He vanished.

Nothing but a pile of charred bones atop the rust-colored clay remained.

What—

Another streak of black silenced an elderly woman, her body curling upon impact. I had known her too. She worked the section beside me in the mines—quiet, but kind.

My mouth dried.

This… this wasn’t anything I’d seen before.

Volley after volley of black met its mark, disintegrating whatever it touched.

A young boy, too young to hold a weapon in my homeland evaporated too.

Copper and the overwhelming stench of decay filled my nose as the hillside became a graveyard of bones. Wails ceased to nothing as the once populous mountainside became deserted. Not a single soul escaped.

I alone remained.

Crunch.

The sound of bones snapping echoed up the slick pathway as three distinct voices cackled amongst the stone.

“Did you see how many I hit?”

“It was a test run, not a competition,” a voice grumbled.

There was nowhere to hide.

Everything had been demolished as those voices edged closer and closer to where I sat.

And so I waited for death to find me.

A figure emerged from the mist, cloaked in black and a long, tube-like weapon at his side. “We’ve got one!” he yelled, two other figures appearing from behind.

They carried the same weapons as they aimed them at my chest. It emitted a faint blue glow as raindrops peppered the surrounding area.

The man cloaked in black stepped forward, bile rising in my throat as red water dripped down his sharp cheekbones and chin.

He crouched, the weapon nearing close.

Nausea churned further in my stomach and a deep pounding echoed in my head. A cry of pain escaped my lips as it inched closer.

“Interesting,” the guard muttered. “You’re reacting to the black minerals.”

Black minerals.

Beware black minerals.

“What casting do you use?” he demanded, his finger lightly hovering over the weapon.

Would he shoot me? Would it turn me into bones too? My lip quivered as I raised my hands in surrender.

“What casting do you use?” he repeated, his eyes locking with mine.

“Power,” I rasped, my head swirling as talons gripped my mind.

“You must be his daughter,” he stated. “The new transfer.” A low whistle escaped his mouth. “Take her to the iron chamber and tell Draven he has a new experiment. ”

Experiment? Experiment for what?

Would they use the weapon on me or something far worse?

The sentinel grinned. “Rahan High Fae or not, you’re unique. I hope you don’t die quickly.”

Die? I couldn’t die.

But as the other sentinels hauled me from the mud, my voice vanished like it always did.

I wasn’t sure if minutes, days, or weeks had flown by since the sentinel had dragged me down the mountainside and strapped me to this table in the middle of an abandoned cave lit by oil lamps.

The table I’d defiled with my blood, sweat, and vomit as they injected the black mineral into my veins. I’d lost count after six.

The liquid ran through my veins like a terrifying vice, staining them blue.

My throat was hoarse from screaming, and my cheeks were raw from the saltwater dripping from my eyes. Neither did anything to dull the ache as the deadly venom ran its course.

A guttural groan left my lips as my back arched from the stone, my eyes wide as I stared at the wet ceiling, droplets smacking against my face every few minutes.

This was worse than torture. I’d arrived in hell, and all I wanted to do was die. But as my heart slowed and darkness crept toward me, the mineral dissipated once more. It left me panting against the cold slab of stone.

“Amusing,” someone said, their voice floating to my ears as I fell in and out of consciousness. “It seems as though the mineral dissipates after a certain threshold. It eliminates itself from her body,” the icy voice hummed. “What of the others?”

Others? They were torturing more than me?

“Same thing,” a haunting voice spoke, his voice like daggers against the wet stone walls. “A lethal dosage seems to be different for each person, but they all tap out at around three vials.”

“And what of her?” the icy voice hummed once more.

“She’s at double and no intense signs of decay.”

“How peculiar,” the voice purred. “Run it again. I want to see it for myself.”

No, please.

But no one answered my plea as they injected me with the mineral once again, its icy grip reaching into every pore and crevice as if to say?—

Your body belongs to me.