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And just like that, Everett was dead. After days—weeks—of torturing me, he died so fast. And someone else had stolen my sweet revenge, killing him first.
I moaned, not upset he was gone, but kind of worried what this meant for me now.
Was I being rescued?
I had a strange feeling I was not. Because if Qualmer was disguising himself as King Tomrick—
The door to the room opened.
“Sir, I got us the finest—”
The sound of breaking clay filled the air as the jug crashed to the ground and shattered.
“Damn,” the king announced. “You dropped the ale. I was hoping for a refreshing drink after this.”
“I—who—” Afton sounded sufficiently confused. “What’s going on? Did you just kill Master Teller?”
“Yes, but he sends his regards and wanted me to tell you what a fine assistant you made while you served him. But now you must join him in death.”
“What?! No, I—”
Scuffling, grunts, and curses followed when the king struck, attacking Afton as well. This one wasn’t a
short murder, as Everett’s had been. His assistant fought back. Tables were jostled, scraping across the floor, things fell and crashed on stone cobbles, more groans and growls and obscenities followed.
Finally, the battle wound down and the survivor ripped out a long, exhausted expletive. “Son of a bitch, that was more work than I ever like to put into anything. But damn, he was a fighter.” Then he let out a short laugh. “And a bleeder. The poor, loyal sap.”
So, I guess Afton was dead now, as well.
King Tomrick has killed again.
Though, at this point, I was certain he wasn’t King Tomrick.
I tried to twist my head to see him, wondering what he planned to do with me. As if sensing my attention, he huffed out a long breath.
“Oh, Quilla,” he sighed as if he knew me personally. His boots scuffed against the floor as he walked closer. “Quilla, Quilla, Quilla. What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
Around us, all the guards who'd been positioned against the walls simply vanished as if they’d never been there, leaving me alone in the chamber with the fake king. He kneeled next to the extractor and tipped his head to the side so he could meet my gaze. My sight was a bit blurry after the repeated blows and swelling I’d received, but I was barely able to make out his features and tell that they were moving and changing. Morphing into a different face altogether.
He’d been wearing a glamour, I realized, and now he was removing it.
Once he willed his disguise away, I recognized a boy I once knew in the face of the man before me. Except he was missing an eye.
I tried to say his name, but the retractor and swollen appendage in my mouth made it impossible for me to form words. And the moaning sound I made caused painful vibrations to ring from my vocal cords through my jaw and across the wounded tongue. I gagged and winced, falling mute.
Qualmer simply smiled at my failed attempts. “Hello, cousin,” he greeted. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”
Chapter 36
Quilla
Qualmer was here.
He’d saved me. Out of all my family members, he was the very last I would’ve expected to receive any kind of help from. So why would he—
Eyes frosting with hatred, he grabbed my jaw, his fingers biting in painfully. “You almost got us all caught and killed, you know that, you stupid little cow? My children, Quilla, all of them under six years old—they could’ve been murdered by High Clifters because of this. Their death would’ve been on your hands if I hadn’t come along to clean up your damn mess.”
Ah. Well, that explained that, then. The three R Graykeys near New Gill must be his progeny. And he just wanted to protect them.
