Page 3 of Vow of the Shadow King

He’s taking me somewhere to kill me. I don’t know why. He could have easily overpowered me in the cell, slit my throat, crushed my skull in his big trolde hands. Perhaps he doesn’t want to leave evidence of my death. Perhaps he plans to deliver me to someone else who will do the actual deed.

Either way, he intends for me to die.

I have a split second to decide what to do. I glance at him, his hooded face, his hunched and nervous body. He wants to keep my death a secret. Which means, I’m not wholly without power here.

I open my mouth and let out an earth-shattering scream. It echoes up and down the stone passage, and the crystals imbedded deep within the walls seem to catch the sound and carry it further. Surely someone must be near, someone will come, someone will—

The man grabs my shoulders and slams me up against the wall. It knocks the breath out of me, and then his hand clamps down over my mouth.“Morar-juk!”he snarls as his hood falls back.

A cold wave of horror rushes over me as his features come into view. I recognize him. It’s the man who stood by the block on the scaffold. The man who read out my crimes, who pronounced my sentence. I’d felt the cold, cruel pleasure he’d taken in the prospect of my death. His malice struck my gods-gift with force enough to knock me off my feet.

There’s no such pleasure in him now. At first, I feel nothing but murder, hard and terrible. But that is only the thin veneer over the truth. Down underneath lurks a deeper, stronger, surging feeling:despair.

The man’s eyeballs shake in his skull. He presses me hard against the wall, his forearm across my throat. His free hand reaches into his cloak, whisks out a dagger which he angles just under my ear. But he’s made a mistake. He’s pressed my whole body up against the wall. I flatten my palms to the stone, feel the vibration of all those hidden crystals deep inside. Channeling that vibration, I stare into those spinning eyes of his, and—take hold.

The man gasps. Freezes. His head tilts slowly to one side.

I feel all of it. Everything he’s feeling. Murder. Hatred. Bloodlust and fear. I feel it and hold it suspended between us, even as his knife pricks my throat, even as the edge of the blade cuts into my flesh.

Slowly, I pry one hand free of the wall, press it against his cheek.

Calm.

The vibrations in the stone rush through me, ripple through my bones, my muscles, out my pores.

The man jolts. His eyes widen.

Then he drops like a stone.

With a gasp, I sag, just managing to lock my knees and keep from falling. The wall still hums faintly at my back, and my body reverberates with echoes of pulsing energy. Slowly, the reverberations pass. I blink. My vision clears.

A crumpled body lies at my feet.

I stare at it, momentarily uncertain how it got there. Blood rushes into my head, throbs in my veins. Eventually, understanding dawns:I did this.I knocked this man unconscious. Maybe . . . maybe more. Maybe worse.

He looks peaceful. Unnaturally so, considering how twisted his expression had been only moments before. I shake my head, my breath thin and tight between my lips. What have I done? I’ve used this calming trick before. It’s the only aspect of my gods-gift over which I have any control. But never to such a degree.

Warmth trickles down my neck. When I touch it, my fingers come away sticky. I must do something. I can’t just stand here, bleeding. The knife lies where it clattered, close to my foot. I wonder if I should pick it up. Not that I’d know what to do with it. I could never bring myself to plunge it into another living being.

My back still pressed against the wall, I sidle several paces to one side, away from the fallen man. Then, with a shivering inhale of breath, I snatch up his fallenlorstcrystal. Gripping it in both hands, I continue down the passage. My lips try and fail to form a cry for help. But I shouldn’t alert anyone to my presence, should I? After all, this man may not have been working alone. Someone else might come running to finish what he started.

Is it possible he was sent by Vor? Surely not. Why would Vor spare me from public execution only to send an assassin creeping into my cell? Of course, he might want me quietly dead without a public scandal. It’s not as though my father will care whether I live or die.

I come to a place where the passage branches and stop, uncertain. One wrong move could send me into the arms of another assassin. Is there any choice that will lead to safety? Closing my eyes, I reach out with my senses, hardly knowing what I seek. Perhaps nothing. But perhaps . . . perhaps . . .

Suddenly, there it is: apull.

It’s so faint I could easily be imagining it. But just now, it’s the only guidance I have.

I turn down the left-hand passage, holding thelorstcrystal before me. Other passages branch off from this one, but I don’t let myself be distracted. I continue, my stride determined, almost as though I know where I’m going.

Light shines up ahead. It’s so bright, so pure, I want to convince myself it’s daylight. Of course, that’s impossible in this world under stone. Still, I hasten toward it, eager, strangely hopeful. A doorway arches before me, wide open. I step into the opening and gaze out on the world before me.

My jaw slowly drops.

It’s a garden. At least, that’s what my brain tries to tell me. Only this is not like any garden I’ve ever seen. It’s all so much bigger, grander, with sweeping heights and winding depths, sheer cliffs and twisting rock formations. Brilliant pops of color trick my eye into believing I see flowers. On second glance, however, I realize they are gemstones. Hundreds and hundreds of gemstones. Some have been polished into perfect spheres. Others have been left in natural state, while still more have been carved and cut. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and more, so many and so varied, I cannot begin to name them all. They gleam in thelorstlight shining from the high cavern ceiling above.

I don’t know how long I stand there, dazzled. Then I feel thepullagain, this time stronger than before. It draws my gaze to an outcropping in a higher region of the garden. There, on proud display, stands a ring of tall, blue crystals. They look very much like the pendant I wear, but so much larger.

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