Page 26 of The Demon's Tongue

"No!" Derina snaps, her fear making her irritable. "But I've never seen him this angry. Whatever you've done, you're in for it now."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Fine. Where is he?"

"In his private study," Derina replies brusquely. "Can you hurry up? We've wasted so much time. I don't intend of getting punished for your stupidity."

"Alright." I hold a hand up, just as she reaches out for my arm. "I can walk by myself. No need to touch me."

I follow Derina through the winding corridors, my heart pounding against my ribs. Each step feels heavier than the last, like I'm walking to my own execution. The confidence I feltearlier starts to crumble, replaced by a gnawing doubt that claws at my insides.

"What if Calix lied?" I mutter under my breath, barely audible.

Derina glances back, her eyes narrowing. "What was that?"

"Nothing," I reply quickly, forcing a neutral expression.

As we approach Sylas's study, my mind races. Was I a fool to trust a demon? The very thought makes my stomach hurt. I replay our interactions in my head, searching for any sign that Calix might have deceived me. His smirk, his casual demeanor, his sudden disappearances—were they all part of some elaborate trick?

Was I a just helpless pawn all along?

14

GENEVA

Derina leads me through the manor, her steps quick and purposeful. I struggle to keep up, my heart pounding loud in my ears. We turn a corner, and suddenly we're in a guarded hallway. The air feels thicker here, heavier with importance.

"This is where I leave you," Derina says, her voice tinged with relief. She turns to the guards, two imposing dark elves with faces like stone. They're armed with sharp daggers and spears. "Take her to Master Sylas."

The guards nod, their expressions unreadable. One of them gestures for me to follow, and I fall into step behind them, my legs feeling like dead weights.

As we walk, I can't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding us. The corridors are a far cry from the cramped quarters I've been living in. Tapestries depicting ancient dark elf battles line the walls, their threads glimmering in the soft light of enchanted orbs floating overhead. Ornate vases filled with flowers I've never seen before sit on pedestals of polished marble.

"Quite the setup, huh?" I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

The guard to my left grunts. "Eyes forward, girl. Master Sylas doesn't appreciate gawking."

I snap my gaze ahead, but my mind continues to race. What could Sylas possibly want? Did he find out about last night? My stomach churns at the thought of what punishment might await me. I killed one of his clients.

We pass a series of doors, each more ornate than the last. Finally, we stop in front of one that seems to dwarf the others. It's made of dark wood, intricately carved with scenes I can't quite make out.

"Wait here," one of the guards says gruffly. He knocks on the door, then enters.

I'm left alone with the other guard, the silence stretching between us like a chasm. I can hear my own heartbeat, loud in my ears.

"So..." I start, desperate to break the tension. "Do you ever get lost in this place? It's like a maze."

The guard's lips twitch, almost like he's suppressing a smile. "You get used to it," he says, his voice softer than I expected.

Before I can respond, the door opens again. The first guard reappears, his face impassive. "Master Sylas will see you now."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Whatever awaits me behind that door, I'll face it and come out with my life. I have to.

I step into the room, the heavy doors closing behind me with a soft thud. My eyes widen as I take in the sheer opulence surrounding me. Paintings of vibrant colors adorn the walls, their intricate scenes telling stories I can't begin to decipher. Gemstones the size of my fist are casually scattered across ornate tables, catching the light and casting rainbow reflections across the room.

The floor beneath my feet is so polished I can almost see my reflection in it. It's a far cry from the cold, hard wooden floors I've been scrubbing for days. I'm so caught up in the contrastbetween this luxury and my recent squalor that I almost miss the voice cutting through the silence.

"Enjoying the view, little human?"

I jump, my heart leaping into my throat. My gaze snaps to the source of the voice, and there he is. Sylas. The dark elf who bought me, who owns this place, who holds my life in his bejeweled hands.

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