Page 49 of Haunted

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When I come to, I’m aware of pain. My body throbs, most likely from my rebounding hit. My knees burn. I blink. The sky is gray. I’m back outside, and the sulfurous stench and the bite that burns into my knees tells me where I am, kneeling on the obsidian glass outside Uffern.

The last few hours of trudging the claustrophobic tunnels was for nothing.

The roots of my hair sting from a guard holding me, immobilizing me. There are others. More half-emrys standing in a semicircle, with varying degrees of power. Neifion closes the semicircle.

His concealment spell is broken. How? Then I know. The empress. I gave her the counter chant. He’s ten feet away and bowed low so that his chin is shoved onto the ground.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t lift his wings or his head. One of his red dragon eyes is large and angled in my direction.

I don’t feel fear from him.

I sense failure.

No. Neifion, I say.

He says nothing in return.

What of the uprising? Do the free dragon riders fight? I ask.

The conflict was over before it started. She knew.

No.

The empress steps into my field of vision. Her red hair blows with a rare breeze. Her eyes flash with the fire of hatred.

Neifion! I shout. Save yourself. Flee!

He doesn’t move, and I realize he can’t. My heart sinks. The empress holds him with her dark power.

No. I failed.

Who caught up to me in the chamber? Who braved Uffern to stop me?

The guard releases his hold, and I pitch forward. Obsidian cuts into my hands, but that’s the least of my concerns.

Because the empress will show no mercy.

“Your Highness, it’s not what you think.” I stay low, as if bowing to her in submission. My words are not sniveling. I fake confidence.

She makes a production of striding over to Neifion and crouches to caress his snout. He huffs rebellious smoke into her face.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk, Neifion,” she coos.

The empress turns slowly. With each step closing the distance from my dragon to me, she glares. “This. Is. Unforgivable. How dare you? You pretended to love me. You spoke pleasing words to me. You devoted yourself to serving me.”

Love. I’m not sure I can say that about my feelings toward her.

Did she love me in return? Since she’s so concerned, since she seems so outraged, surely she must have. “My empress, let me explain.” I dare glance into her face, with hope.

Her boot comes down on my hand, with a force meant for slow torture, not a fast crushing blow. I’m stunned but hold my pain in.

She turns her foot a miniscule fraction and turns my hand with it. The pain as stone cuts is fierce, calculated, and unrelenting. Flesh tears. She turns her boot the other way, deliberately, dragging stone across open wounds.

I hold back my cry.

“You betrayed me,” she says with even words.

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