“It is done.”
Although I hear the demon’s words, it takes a moment for them to sink in and my mind to reconnect to my body now I’m no longer suffocating.Glancing to the pile of gemstones of the floor, I see they are gleaming brightly in the lamp light and I swear they have an inner glow that they didn’t previously possess. A high-pitched hum emits from them, almost sounding happy that their magic has been replenished. Which of course is just madness as gems aren’t capable of feeling emotions. From simply looking at them, I know that whatever just happened, the gems are now magical. Even from here I can feel the power in them, I have never felt anything like it.
Movement catches my eye and I look up to see the form of the demon is fading from view.
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
Why is my voice so high pitched and breathy? Have things gotten so bad that I am now craving the company of a demon? My cheeks flush pink at my previous thoughts and I scoff internally. I know the gems have been filled with magic, but what if they don’t work, or there is a problem and I need his help? His bargain cannot be filled if I am dead thanks to shoddy magic.
“Shoddy magic? I help you out and this is how you thank me, by insulting me?”
Oh shit. I didn’t mean to speak aloud and now I might have destroyed any chance of getting out of this alive. His body is fully corporeal once more, his arms crossed over his chest. I think he’s joking from his tone of voice and the fact he’s smiling, but there’s a dangerous glint to his eyes that tells me I am pushing my luck.
“You can’t blame a woman for checking,” I fire back with my own smile, trying to make it as cheeky as possible. Begging and apologising isn’t going to work with him, and I am not the type to lower myself to grovelling, so this is my best bet.
His brow raises and he studies me closely for a moment. Tilting his head to one side, he clucks his tongue. I can’t imagine many humans challenge him that often, and those that have are probably dead.
However, there’s a spark of interest in his eyes. “Was there something else you wanted?”
Wait, he’s not going to strike me down for daring to question him? I’m fairly sure that he’s messing with me, sarcasm dripping from his words, yet pat of me wants to try, to push him and see what I can persuade him to do. Which is a terrible idea. Flustered by the question, I blink rapidly and shake my head.
“No-” I stop myself and take a deep breath, attempting to order my thoughts. “I just- I don’t even know your name.” For some reason, this seems really important.
He laughs, a full, deep belly laugh as though this is the most amusing thing he’s ever heard. Crossing my arms over my chest, I wait for him to finish, cheeks stained pink with embarrassment.
“You really know nothing about demons, do you?” His hair has fallen into his face, and as he looks over at me, he flashes those sharp teeth in a feral grin. “You can call me Kit.”
“Kit,” I whisper, almost without meaning to. I want to ask him what he meant and why it was so funny I asked his name, but he has already gone from my cell, disappearing in a flash of shadow.
Once again, I am alone, but glancing over at the glowing pouch of gems, a glimmer of hope awakens inside me.
Nine
The gems in my palm glitter and gleam, not only due to the lamplight, but because of the inner light they now possess. In my other hand I examine a piece of amethyst that I had brought with me. While it is still beautiful and it sings its song so prettily in my mind, it seems dull compared to the magic-filled crystals littering my other palm.
Slipping my amethyst back into the pouch on my hip, I return my attention to the king’s gemstones. Gently shaking my cupped hands together, I sift through them, their songs getting louder with the motion. None of my gems have ever felt like this. Sure, they have their own power and individual sounds that I am able use to identify their properties, but these ones in my hands feel… alive. Which is impossible of course. They were completely silent, as though drained, and now they are full of life and potential. With these is my hands, I feel as though I actually could heal someone’s aliments, or make them stronger, luckier, happier – whatever it was they needed from me.
Remember how they became so powerful in the first place. I have to keep reminding myself that the magic inside those glittering rocks is from a demon. As has been happening every time I tell myself this, his face flashes in my mind. Kit. Heatfills my cheeks. Damned demon. Even when he’s not here, he’s still tormenting me. I reach for the pouch and put the magicked stones away. Out of sight and surrounded by fabric, I am given some blessed relief from their humming.
Releasing a long breath, I lean back against the stone wall and let my head roll back to stare at the ceiling. My body aches from yesterday’s escape attempt and from being inactive ever since. I have no idea how long I have been here, its difficult to tell with no windows or regular visitors. The guards have changed out three times, which makes me think it is probably the next day.
To my immense surprise, I managed to get some sleep last night. After everything that has happened, I was expecting to be plagued by nightmares or fail to get any sleep at all thanks to my turbulent thoughts. This could have been thanks to the amethyst I had clutched in my palm all night, helping to banish bad dreams. On top of this, the stone cell is cool and a blessed relief from the boiling heat of the sun. Thanks to my status as sullied, I am used to sleeping on rough, hard surfaces and in dangerous situations. In comparison to some of the places I have stayed since, this is practically a luxury suite despite the drying vomit in the corner. Ultimately though, I think the stress of the day had just drained me completely and I succumbed to exhaustion.
Now I am awake though, my brain is back to its restless thoughts. How is Ella? Did she take my advise and go to Joel? By being caught, I have completely failed her. He will take care of her in the best way he can, but can he truly protect her? She has a gentle soul, and although I tried to teach her to protect herself, she always shied away from my methods. I should have forced her to learn, to make sure that if anything ever happened to me she would know how to survive. By not pushing her, I might have dammed her.
No, I cannot think of her any more, I won’t survive the heartache. My soul is already shredded enough, and although the king promised he would release me if I completed his task, the chances that I will go back to my life as before is almost nil. What I need to be doing instead is focusing on my current situation and how to get out of this alive. I summoned a demon to create magic. If I wasn’t damned before, then I certainly am now.
However, it is not long before my mind begins to stray to thoughts of my sister once more, and the soul deep ache in my chest becomes almost unbearable. It claws at my throat and makes it difficult to breathe.
Slam.
The sound of a door slamming into a stone wall is unmistakable and breaks me from my grief. Jerking in alarm, it takes me a few moments to realise that I’m not in danger. Whoever slammed the door is down the corridor, away from me. Frowning, I sit forward onto my knees and stare at my door, wishing I could see though to know what is happening on the other side. The sound of clipped footsteps and muffled chatter reaches me but I can’t make out what anyone is staying. This could be important, I need to listen at the door and get as much information as possible. Slowly, I stand, pressing a hand against the wall for support, my legs stiff from a night of sleeping on the stone floor.
Hesitantly, I step forward, my heart in my throat. Why am I suddenly so nervous about this? They could be sharing crucial information about me, about the king’s plans. It hits me that this is probably exactly why I am feeling anxious. I could be about to hear about plans for my death or equally awful treatment, something that would make even the hardest person want to quake at the knees.
Come on Kiara,I tell myself sternly. Hearing what they say won’t change the situation, neither will burying my head in the sand. At least if I know, I can be more prepared.
“I am here to see the prisoner.”
