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“That’s why it’s harder for me to watch you go through all of this. My mind can split and defend itself for any reason, any new trauma. Yours can’t.”
“Are there any other alters I should know about?”
He sighs. “There’s—a lot of them.”
“How many’s a lot?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t met all of them. There are eight of us that have had to front regularly over the years. Kane, myself, Foxem, Syfer, Kalidus, Dai, Aquarus.” He pauses, looking down at me in annoyance. “And you’ve met Greystone.”
“Why did each split? Other than you, Kane, Foxem, and my buddy Greystone.” I smile.
“Syfer is a mute alter. He split when Demechnef trained me to be able to withstand torture without spilling secrets to an enemy interrogator.” Dessin readjusts his grip around my arms. “Kalidus is a fictional alter, the idea of him taken from a story Kane read as a child. A god of storms. A powerful character that was raised among humans, degraded and belittled until he was discovered to be a god. He was split when we were trained to withstand emotional abuse and belittlement. An alter that wouldn’t be affected by their humiliating words. Because he knows he’s a god, cocky and powerful.”
I suck in a sharp breath. To think, his poor mind had to bend over backward to adjust to the vile life he was raised in.
“Aquarus is also a fictional alter. A god of the sea. He was split during the simulated drowning treatment. A god that couldn’t drown. Could breathe underwater.”
Dessin clenches his fists and looks away from me like his next words are difficult to even think about.
“Dai… is an animal alter. Short for DaiSzek. He was split when Demechnef would make me do unspeakable things. Rip a human to shreds. Tear them apart with my bare teeth. He split to be able to attack without a rational thought. A mind that only knows violence and chaos and animalistic fury. To be able to obey their requests so I wouldn’t be disgusted with myself.” He takes a deep breath. “The rest of us stay far away from the front when he’s had to surface.”
“Oh, Dessin…” I choke out. “I’m so sorry.”
He lifts his hand to stop me from speaking, looks to the door.
“Let’s get you back to your post.” And he’s scooping me in his arms, rising and walking me back to the chains hanging from the ceiling. I groan.
“Why?”
“They’re to think we’ve been here all night.”
He kisses the inside of my wrists before latching the shackles back on and reeling the lever on the wall to tow me off the floor, dangling like a sad puppet.
And before I know it, he’s back to his wall, maneuvering his hands in a way to click his brass restraints shut, only a half a second before the door opens.
Damn, he’s good.
I let my head hang, chin to chest, as if I’ve been sleeping uncomfortably like this all night. And the air shifts, the energy of sadistic delight.
“Sleep well, sunshine?” Meridei. Her stupid, snaky voice.
I lift my head, blinking slowly as if she has just woken me from a dead sleep.
“Are you ready to crawl back to your nice, cushiony bed now, little pet?”
I imagine Dessin using an axe to chop away at her arm. But it isn’t a clean break. He’ll have to wail at it, a jagged, butchered job. My eyes flick over to where he’s hanging. White knuckles. Staring at Meridei like he’s thinking the same thing.
I nod.
“Good.” An orderly lowers me to the ground, not gently. My knees hit the ground first with a loud thud. My welted skin drags against the tile as I crawl, following her to the exit. I’m wincing at the friction, rubbing against my blisters.
And I can’t look at Dessin as I leave. I refuse. This is awful enough without seeing him look at me like Meridei’s bitch.
~
The old, wrinkly priest visits me while I eat my lunch.
A cold chicken leg, three pieces of broccoli, and murky tap water. It’s hard not to miss the Stormsage Keep. Their hot feast, nonjudgmental eyes, and the woman that helped me while I cried over mashed potatoes. Asena.
