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I can’t help but let out a cry of pain as the pressure increases, the weight of his hand intensified by a prickling current of magic that radiates from my head to the tips of my toes. But I force out a laugh to jar him from his reveling. “You’re a liar. You can’t do this forever.”
I can almost hear his teeth grind together, but the agony subsides. “You can’t fathom what I’m going to do with this beautiful body of yours.” He gropes my ass with a painful squeeze. “You’re just a short-sighted little human. What do you know of anything?”
“I know immortality doesn’t exist,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes against the anticipated retaliation. “Even dark elves die, eventually.”
He upends the horse, tossing me to the floor on my back.
The weight of his magic keeps me pinned to the carpet, and he clenches his fingers as if he wants to twist me into some horrible shape. I dare to keep his gaze locked with mine. His silver eyes are bright with promise, like a child killing an insect with a looking glass.
“Not all of us,” he assures me. “We have our ways.”
I can barely shake my head, but I manage it. “I don’t believe you.”
His expression freezes on his face for the briefest moment, then he lets out a deep laughter, one that fills the room with his mirth. His power over me doesn’t wane, even as his focus is divided by his own humor.
I can’t move an inch. My jaw tightens against the strain as he collects himself, cooling on a hateful chuckle.
“Do you really wish to end your life so soon? We’ve only just begun.”
“You’re a –” Before I can get the word ‘liar’ out again, a bolt erupts from his fingertips, catching me hard in my sternum. I know it won’t kill me, but I wish it would. Every cell is aflame, just as he promised, and I hear a scream rip from my throat.
He relishes the sound.
I’m certain he’s getting off on this, but I can only focus on the pain coursing through me. When it finally lets up, I slump against the carpet, my head lolling to the side. I can feel him standing over me, cast in his shadow.
“What were you saying?”
My lips crack open, but all that escapes my throat is a metallic burn. Instead, I mouth the word, pushing him to the very limit of patience. “Liar.”
“A liar, am I?”
He seems to consider my abysmal state, the weight of his magic making my exhausted lungs struggle for air. He’ll bring me to the brink, and then tear me back just in time. I know his kind. I know what he’s capable of.
“We’ll see about that. I’ll give you time to consider the folly of your claim, if you crave longevity so badly.” And, like the gods answering my prayer, he moves to the door. “When you’ve tasted the font of immortality, you will know I speak the truth.”
And he’s gone.
Though the weight of his spell bears down on me, I find ways to move, inching to find a place where gravity does not have so strong a hold on me. He thinks I’ve been beaten into submission by his torments, and he’ll find out just how wrong he is when he returns.
It’s the drive to see Zyranth again that brings me to my knees, and the last shred of defiance that severs me from his spell. I manage to stand, my body wracked from the magical torture he inflicted, and lean against the wall.
Each breath is a struggle, but I manage.
I have to figure out where I am before all else, then break free from the clutches of Lord Everan’s darkness for good.
17
ZYRANTH
Darkness presses in all around me as I stalk the halls of Lord Everan’s manor, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I take each step warily, knowing there could be more guards or magical traps at any turn, but my urgency prevents total caution. The odor of dark elves is abundant here, and it keeps me on high alert.
I continue down the corridor, its black walls and floors gleaming slightly in the dim light of the few torches lining the hallway. I am deep within Lord Everan’s manor now and not completely sure I could find my way out. The depths of the manor are like a maze of identical hallways. Dark wooden doors line many of these hallways, but most of them are locked.
This hallway has no doors and feels even more ominous because of it. I decide to pick up the pace and head for the next corridor. I arrive at the end of the hall and pause for a moment. Left, or right? After a moment of indecision, I decide to try the hall on the left because there are more doors.
As I take off down the dark corridor, nearly identical to the last, I start trying to open doors. The first one won’t budge, nor the second, nor the third. I consider trying to break them down, but chances are Lord Everan has them enchanted to prevent that, so I move on and try to open the fourth.
As soon as I touch the handle, I yank my hand back. The metal is searing hot. I look down at my hand and notice the door has left a char mark on my palm. I curse under my breath and continue down the corridor.
