The Dragon Queen (Death #4)

16. Talon

Chapter 16

Talon

I entered the room made of cold stone, the sconces burning with black fire in a world so vile that color could not endure. I’d been summoned by a servant that Bahamut only referred to as Creature, a disfigured being that had distant hints of humanity. In a world of darkness, I obeyed orders without opposition because I didn’t want to know the punishment.

That meant I did horrible things, things that scarred my heart.

Not all who came to the Underworld were evil. Most of them had been tricked by Bahamut and other servants who craved the taste of pure and honorable souls. As one of his minions, I was tasked to do the same, to lure people into a place from which they could never leave.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. Maybe years.

Bahamut sat at the head of the table, in his true form, a monster without flesh, with fangs instead of teeth, with small, beady eyes in a large head. He watched me approach, his large size blocking the sight of the chair he occupied from view.

I came close, stopping at the opposite end of the table, all my life-force drained from the service that poisoned my dead heart.

On the table before me was a bowl and a spoon. The bowl was empty.

“The time has come, Talon Rothschild. I’ve grown quite hungry.”

I stared at the black bowl, its empty contents about to be replaced with whatever my soul looked like, a black yolk in a congealed liquid. My eyes lifted to his once more, but I gave no protest, knowing this moment was inevitable. “How much time has passed?”

“Time passes differently here than it does for the living,” he said. “For you, it’s been two years. That’s why you have grown weary. The forces at work here will continue to strain your body until you become bent and broken like the other servants. Your spine will hunch. Your joints will creak. You’ll wither and wither…”

I tried to savor the vengeance I’d earned to make this more bearable, but it wasn’t enough. The exchange hadn’t been equal. Now it felt like a mistake. Khazmuda and Calista never came to my mind, because the second they entered my thoughts, I pushed them away. Their memory tortured me far more than anything Bahamut did. “And how much time has passed above?”

“Nearly a month.”

I stared at him across the table, wondering if someone sat upon the throne of the Southern Isles, if someone had replaced the crown in the Northern Kingdoms. I wondered…if Calista had retaken Scorpion Valley. But then I pushed the thought away as quickly as it came to me.

“Sit,” he said. “It’s time.”

I stared at the bowl again before I pulled out the chair and obeyed his order. I’d grown so weak in my captivity that I was unsure if I could challenge him in a duel. And even if I somehow did, there was no exit from this place.

I looked at him again, waiting for the horror to unleash.

He stared for a moment before a smile spread across his lips. It entered his eyes, a glee that he couldn’t suppress. Then he rose from the chair and came to me, his footsteps as loud as dropping stones, smelling like rotten eggs and burned flesh. His hand was as big as my chest, with nails like talons, and just as he had when he claimed my life, he pressed his palm to my chest so hard my back hit the chair.

I tried to inhale a breath, but he pressed so much force into me that my chest couldn’t rise.

“Remain still.”

My lungs ached for breath, but I suppressed it.

“You’ll just make it hurt more.” Heat burned from his palm, slowly growing in temperature until it felt like flames against my chest. Just as it became unbearable, a red tint surrounded his hand as it marked my flesh.

He continued his focus, his magic moving through my flesh to find the soul that existed beneath.

I couldn’t hold my breath anymore, and I inhaled, and just like he’d said, it hurt,

His eyes narrowed, and he pushed his hand harder into me, cranked up the heat until it made me writhe in silent pain. The energy he put in me made my body tremble on its own. Then he released a quiet growl and shoved me again, nearly making me melt into the back of the chair.

I winced from the heat, wanting it to end already.

Another growl came forth from his mouth, but now it was a roar. He suddenly yanked his hand back.

I collapsed against the chair and gasped for breath, feeling the heat fade as well as the pain. But once it passed, I felt the same as I had before, like nothing had changed. Nothing had been taken from me.

The bowl remained empty.

I looked at him and waited for an explanation.

He gave me a furious look, his dark eyes matching the fire in the sconces.

I didn’t want him to try again. I didn’t want to feel that pain again.

But he remained where he stood. “Interesting.”

I wanted to know more, but I didn’t dare ask. Anything could set him off. A single question could turn into a precursor to torture.

“I can’t grasp your soul—because it’s attached to another.”

I inhaled a sharp breath, thinking of the mighty dragon with midnight-black scales and the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever known. Who believed in me when no one else did. Who saved my life when that dagger pierced my heart. I was dead and he was alive—but he still protected me.

“The bond between your souls is stronger than I anticipated. But it matters not. I’ll break it.”

A new pain swept over me, but it had nothing to do with the fire he put to my chest. It was the insurmountable pain caused only by something as strong as love. I wondered if Khazmuda felt the pull from Bahamut—and if he would know what had befallen me.

“No matter how many times it takes—I’ll break it.”