Page 20 of Vow of the Shadow King

Horror surges through my blood and being, cold as ice. “Faraine?” Her name emerges from my lips in a terrible growl I scarcely recognize as my own voice. “Faraine, what . . . what have I . . .?”

Overhead, thelorstcrystals begin to sway. Softly at first, then more and more wildly, casting weird flashes across her face, in the depths of her eyes. The next moment, the whole room quakes, the walls groan. The floor shifts under my feet. Deeper Dark deliver us! Another stirring!

Moving on instinct, I yank Faraine from the wall, pull her flush against my body, and wrap my arms tight around her. Her bare skin presses into my chest, but I scarcely have time to register the sensation before thelorstlights begin to fall. They crash to the floor, shattering in jagged shards. Darkness envelops the chamber.

An earsplitting crack overhead. I dive to one side, dragging Faraine with me. Rolling, I place my body on top of hers and brace as stones rattle loose from the ceiling and fall in a stream of dust and debris on top of me. Something huge crashes into the floor where we’d stood an instant before. The whole palace shifts on its foundations, like a living creature writhing in pain.

This is it. This is the end. The end of all things.

I bow over her, pressing my face down, my forehead against hers. A prayer bursts from the depths of my soul, a silent ragged cry to all the gods both high and low. Let this not be her end! If I must die, so be it. Let my bones be smashed to dust. Only let my body shield her from this fate. Let her live. Let her be spared.

The shaking stops. The room stills once more.

At first, I cannot make either my body or mind believe it. I’m so convinced we must be dead, it takes fifty thundering heartbeats before I can force myself to draw breath. When I do, I inhale dust and cough violently. Only when I finally recover my breath do I realize Faraine is coughing as well.

I draw back. Only a fraction. To be separated from her is unbearable, but I don’t want to crush her, not when she’s already struggling for air. Darkness surrounds us. No matter how my eyes strain, I can discern nothing of her features. “Are you all right?” I ask, my throat raw. The words emerge as a rough growl.

She coughs again, seems to struggle. Then, finally: “Let go of me.”

Her voice stabs through my heart like knives. Cold, sharp. Unyielding.

I shift my weight. Stone and debris tumble from my back. Thank the Deeper Dark for my hard trolde hide. I sit up, peer into the gloom. It’s too dark to get a sense of the extent of the destruction.“Hira!”I growl, without much hope it will do any good.

To my surprise, a singlelorstcrystal, unshattered and unburied, responds to my command. It’s a meager light, but in that pitch black it seems bright as a fallen star. The pale white glow reveals several large pieces of stalactite which lie on either side of us. They would have shattered my spine had they struck. One wall is partially caved in. Dust and stone cover every article of furniture. The whole chamber looks as though it’s been unearthed from a landslide.

I look down at Faraine. She gathers her limbs together, trying to pull her garment closed around her body. Her hands shake like two frightened birds, but her jaw is firm, the lines around her eyes tense. She seems both fragile and impenetrable at the same time.

“Are you hurt?” I ask. “Please, I need to know if—”

“I’m fine.” She shakes her head sharply, refusing to look at me. I can’t blame her. Any concern from me must seem sickening. What kind of monster asks after its prey’s wellbeing after nearly tearing out its throat?

Pulling my limbs under me, I rise, stagger back, and take a look at the wreckage around us. A pile of stone blocks the chamber door. I make my way to it, pull back stones and tumble them to the side. At last, I’ve cleared a narrow way and can reach the door latch. It gives. But when I begin to draw the door open, I feel a sudden, terrible pressure of stone on the far side. Hastily, I shut it again. We’re trapped. Entombed like ancient warriors.

Slowly I bow my head, press my brow against the door. My breath is tight again. The air seems thicker than ever. I close my eyes. What happened? When I think back over the past few hours, everything is a blur of darkness punctuated by flashes of red heat. Only impressions come back to me like momentary sparks in my mind.

The touch of Faraine’s skin under my hand.

The intoxicating thrum of lust in my blood.

The pulse, the drive.

The rage.

I remember some part of me fought, desperate to stop. But it seemed as though that part was locked behind fiery bars while the animal took over. A wild, savage animal that rent my reason into shreds. All I knew was my desire forher.To take her. To break her. To make her suffer. To make her mine.

I’ve felt this madness before. The last time, it had driven me to order her execution. This time, it drove me to savagery. But the impulse stemmed from the same place.

I’ve been poisoned. Again.

Movement behind me. I look over my shoulder in time to see Faraine stand and yank her robe tight around her body. The delicate fabric is gray with dust, but it clings to her soft frame. Heat flares through my body. Not as intense a flame as it was, but present, dangerous. There’s still poison in my blood. I grit my teeth, determined to fight it back. A growl rumbles in my throat.

Faraine starts. Her eyes flash to meet mine. She freezes in place, like a rockdeer poised for flight. Then her hands move, shaking hard as she struggles to tie the belt of her garment. I wish I could offer to help, wish I could do something to ease her fear. My throat clogs with dust when I try to speak her name.

It’s Faraine who breaks the silence, at last. “We’re trapped here. Aren’t we.” Her voice is small, hollow. Almost lifeless.

I draw a deep breath. “It appears to be so.”

She nods slowly. Gathering her robe close, she steps over debris to the bed. A huge chunk of stalactite fell from the ceiling during the quake, crashed through the canopy, and pierced the mattress. Faraine puts out one hand, touches a fold of tattered canopy, fingering the blue cloth. She rubs away a film of dust to reveal the silvery threads of an embroidered star. This she studies with intense concentration for some long moments. Finally, she looks at me again. Her expression is impossible to read. “Will they come for us, do you think?”

---