Page 37 of Court of Evil

“You are a hunter.” The voice is sharp against my skin.

“I am, but I’m not here to hunt you,” I admit, and the tongue slowly drags up my arm and across my shoulder then face. I turn my head away, but something within the shadow grips my cheek and turns it back, lapping at my lips.

“Truth,” it hisses. “But they after you are.”

“Yes,” I answer without shame. “My commander thinks you will be useful in my hunt.”

“I follow no one,” it responds from the shadows. “I am a god.”

“I do not need you to follow me, just work with me.”

“In exchange for what?” The tongue drags across my cheek and down, sliding beneath my clothes. I slap at the shadows, but my hands are pinned to the wall as it continues its journey, shoving deeper into my clothes.

For fuck’s sake, why are all monsters perverts?

I shiver as it traces the tips of my breasts.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice even, which makes me proud.

The tongue stops for a moment, and I hesitate. “Freedom, I want my freedom. I have been trapped here for too long, only able to feed on what wanders in and send out remnants of my magic.”

“Which alerted us,” I muse. “If I grant you your freedom, what will you do?”

“Clever little hunter.” It chuckles and withdraws. “Why don’t you find out? If you want my help, then you must earn it.”

It lets me go, and I frown, unsure what it means.

The shadows seem to thicken, and when I don’t move, it comes closer until I have no choice but to turn and wander deeper into the labyrinth behind me. The tunnels are carved from stone, and the light is so dim, I can barely see. I choose tunnels at random, but when I pick wrong, the shadows move before me, blocking my way and turning me the way it wants.

It’s leading me, and without much choice, I let it.

The air around me grows warm and humid as I walk. I’m sweating, and my muscles ache as though I’ve wading through water and not air. Suddenly, the tunnel opens up into a peaked archway made from stone. There is writing above it I cannot read or understand.

Well, I guess I’m heading into the creepy archway, right?

Taking a deep breath, I step through it, feeling a barrier slide across me. I shudder and hair rises on my arms, but I’m through.

Darkness surrounds me on the other side, and I turn, straining to see when flames burst to life, making me jerk back. They burn in huge basins at least three times taller than me, the flames licking at stone walls, and I turn as more burst to life around the huge chamber, filling it with an orange glow and even more warmth.

It seems to keep the shadow at bay, and when I turn, the glowing eyes peer at me from beyond the arched doorway, as if blocked.

The shadow stills and forms a limb, and it points up. Turning, I see what it gestured at.

It’s a person suspended between heptagonal columns at the end of the room. Stepping closer, I crane my neck to look up.

The being is chained in the air above me.

He looks like a man.

The chain tightly crisscrosses his bare skin, causing his muscles to bulge. More hold him up by the neck, and another is across his mouth, gagging him.

Part of me pities him. Imagine being trapped like that for centuries for simply being who you are. Did anyone ever give this monster a chance?

Maybe that’s why Shamus sent me here

I guess that proves one of the legends right. Tempests have the ability to project themselves.

“You were leading me here. Why?” I ask of the shadows as I glance back. “Is this you?”

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