Blackness took her with a booming thunder, launching her into the swirling eddies of the starlit night to land in a crumpled heap upon the ruined floor. No sense of time came to her as Aida pushed up on weak arms to look around her. The quiet was eerie, the only sound the clatter of small stones tumbling to scatter across the ruin of the room. A low groan caught Aida’s attention. Shoving to her feet, using the jagged edge of a large rock to haul her upright, she searched the carnage.
“You… little bitch,” Otaso snarled as he shoved Vasari’s limp body from him.
Aida gasped, hand to her throat until the old general groaned and slapped a hand to the deep gash spilling blood down his face. Too late she saw Otaso coming towards her. Scurrying back, she held out a shaking hand to stop him. A worthless gesture as he stalked his prey while she sought to put the drifts of rubble between them.
“Years I have invested in you. Years! All for this moment,” he shouted, face twisted and shading to an unhealthy purple. “Coddling and pampering you, and for what? Look what you have done!”
“S-Sir, please, I… I don’t…” Aida screamed as he vaulted a table torn asunder, snatching at her arm. The hiss of ripping cloth loud in her ears, she tried to twist away. Caught in his cruel hold, she wasn’t going anywhere.
“The moment is gone forever, and you have ruinedeverything.” In an unexpected move, he let her go. Letting Aida stumble over the wreckage only to grab her by the throat. “Not even worth being a wet hole. You sicken me.”
Aida blanched from the coarse growl, understanding his meaning if not the words themselves. Knew it as a lie, as that darkness that had haunted her all these years shone bright in the depths of his murky eyes. Holding his wrist, she didn’t dare to claw at his arm as her breaths became further strained. Bit her tongue hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood to keep her pleas silent.
Otaso threw her to the floor with a bellow that brought down more rubble. The arches groaned their distress as the sounds of his fury collided with cracked rock. Cowering before the man who held her life in his palm, Aida scrunched her eyes closed and awaited his commands. She did not understand what had happened. Whatever force had created such chaos and destruction was not Otaso’s, but she didn’t know where it came from. Impossible to imagine her racing thoughts of freedom, the horror at being his in every way he could claim her could wreak such violence.
Aida screamed when Otaso grabbed her arm and began dragging her. Remaining slipper unable to find purchase, her sounds of pain rushed in their wake as he hauled her through the rubble, uncaring of the tears in her gown or the rough marks cutting into her skin. He didn’t even pause when he burst through what remained of the door where dozens of his army congregated with wide eyes and pale faces. Otaso let them see her as she writhed at the end of her arm, screaming her mangled pleas at his stiff back.
He heard not a word of it. Ignoring Aida even when she grabbed hold of his torn robe, clinging to it. Sobbing as she implored him to stop. It was at the steep, dark stairs leading downwards that her confusion turned to horror. Stark terror raking cruel fingers down her back, she launched herself backwards. Ignored the tearing sensation in her shoulder as she grabbed hold of the smooth stone, her lacquered nails ripping to the quick as they scrambled for any purchase.
“I’m sorry, sir, please. Please, not this!” Aida shrieked in a mixture of pain and fear as Otaso grabbed the tangled knots of her hair, jerking at the braids hard enough that strands pulled free to drift through the darkling shadows.
Otaso said nothing. Fist clenched in her hair, his other arm slammed into her stomach. Doubling her over with a guttural moan, the corset stabbing into her flesh. Carrying her down the steep flight, he acted as if she weighed nothing at all. Her struggles meant nothing, a bare twitch to the solid muscle pinning her against his side.
The further they descended, the darker it became. Malicious shadows swirled through the weak glow of Otaso’s magic. A scarlet ball that sputtered and dimmed until only a small sphere illuminated the next step for the heavy tread of his boots. Hungry darkness grabbing at Aida’s flailing limbs as her tearful screams became a cacophony of misery.
Dank air sucking at her skin, the pervading chill seeped into the marrow of her bones as Otaso’s sure strides carried them deeper into the belly of the castle. The very pit of the Abyss opening wide to accept them as he came to the line of crusted locks and slimy bars.
The iron gate’s stuttering wail sluiced through the tangled darkness as Otaso forced it open, the dingy sphere above his head dipping and swaying, a drunken fire bug as he shoved the bars wide enough to admit his bulk. One great heave sent Aida through the air.
Body landing against the wall with a heavy thud, she collapsed the floor in a broken heap. Mouth working to pull in a breath, she clawed at the vulgar bricks. Dragging herself towards the rippling waves of fury that slammed around her skull. Beating her senseless though he stood back with his chin high. Staring down his nose at the wretched creature struggling to voice her entreaties.
“You’ll remain here until I decide what to do with you.” Swinging the barred door shut with another scream of metal, a surge of crimson washed over his hands. Locking the gate fast to all but his hand. The swell of power dimmed his orb further, the murky russet limning his harsh brow in a ruddy glow. “I suggest you consider your plight, girl. Think long and hard about what you have scorned so thoroughly and what shall become of you now.”
“Please, sir,” Aida yelled after his retreating back, arms outstretched through the jagged bars. Hoping against hope he would turn, that he wouldn’t abandon her in the empty pitch of this place. Tears and panic twisting through her, choking her on acrid bile, she attempted to give him pause. “Please, Otaso, I beg you—”
“You will beg me, Aida,” Otaso’s fading voice said, sliding through the deepening shadows. “In time, you will learn to beg very well.”
Falling to the floor once again, Aida huddled around herself. Clinging to the torn edges of her gown, she tried to shield herself from the cold that assaulted her inside and out to no avail. Now her tears burned hot and bitter, scalding her wan cheeks as the blackness became absolute.
Screaming as the first chill brush of nothingness scraped her nape, she scuttled towards the hope of a corner. Grew hoarse as unseen things grabbed and clawed, tugging and pulling at her hair and skirts. Curled into the tightest ball she could manage as the vicious dark tormented her, Aida cried out for Otaso again and again. Begged for his leniency, careless with her promises if he would just let her out.
He never came.
Chapter 3
Er’it
Years had goneinto planning this exact moment and nothing would rush him. Not when he could taste the victory sweet on his tongue, no matter what happened once they descended upon the castle shrouded in night and darkness.
“I don’t like it,” General Ath'asho murmured at his side, the groaning weight of armor shifting as the warrior moved back from the ledge.
“You don’t have to like it. If that show two days ago was any indication, it’s in our favor.”
At least Er’it hoped it was. He had faith in the Hat'or but should the vision from the Goddesses that saw his victory fail, he had the army at his back. A more glorious force there had never been and perhaps never would be seen again. Years it took him to gather them all, traveling the whole of the arid nations to find the displaced, the vengeful, and the disparaged. A child king with no court, gathering his armies before he’d even bedded a woman. Revenge was all he’d ever known. For the life and title stripped away from him, the mother ground into the dirt when they cast her out. The woman who begged her son as she lay wretched and dying in filth to take back what was always his.
Dozens of kingdoms had fallen to his sword and magic, and still dissatisfaction plagued him. The visions from the Hat’or promised him greatness beyond all measure. Yet there was little victory in how easy the others succumbed. This one, the Black Mage who had collected his power from the blood of thousands over the years, he promised to be a challenge. One Er’it looked forward to with a crazed anticipation.
“My king,” Endi whispered, small fingers skimming over Er’it’s arm as she drew close enough her soft blue robe swirled around his legs. “Take care and listen to your General. We cannot lose you now.”
