Page 75 of Destroyer

“Ru,” Fen warned, “you don’t have to do this.”

Inda blinked rapidly. “On the contrary,” she said, “you are required to.”

“On whose orders?” Gwyneth said, paling visibly in the lamplight.

“The regent’s,” said Ru. “Who else? That’s why they’re here. To push for results. But it’s all right. I said I would do it and I will.”

There was a jumbled protest, Fen half-standing at his table, the chair toppling back onto the stone floor. Archie began talking too fast, gesturing aggressively at the Children. And Gwyneth, still pale but holding herself together, quietly admonished Archie and Fen for their behavior.

Ru pushed it all aside, a background hum, irrelevant, and focused on the task at hand. The Children wanted her to speak to the artifact, and she would. If she changed her mind now, the regent would no doubt remove Ru from the research project, order the artifact sent back to the palace, and place it under her own direct watch.

Ru wouldn’t let that happen. And she was tired of failing, tired of lying, tired of all of it.

Not waiting for the clamor to die down, ignoring everyone else, Ru went to the center table. The artifact sat unwrapped, shining like onyx. With deliberate movements she approached, leaning forward until her hands were braced on the dark wood of the table. She gazed at the black stone, opening herself up to it, letting it in.

The artifact responded eagerly, flowing into her being like syrup, coating her from the inside out.

Around her the sound died out, fading to nothing.

“Move away,” she said, never once looking away from the stone. “Just in case.”

Everyone but Ru retreated to the far edges of the room, clinging to the shadows.

It was too easy, speaking to the artifact. Ru only had to angle her thoughts toward it, a soft touch of the mind, and immediately the artifact was filling her thoughts, her feelings, a vibration of energy at the core of her being as if her body were brimming with light.

Her breaths came faster, shallower. The sensation of it nearly overwhelmed her.

“What are you?” she whispered aloud.

At the same time, she asked this question through the connection that tethered her to the stone. No words, only emotion:What are you?

In the middle of an inhale, like a brick to the head, she was slammed with a wall of sensation — color, light, shapes, images. She saw a sky, blackened with soot or thick storm clouds; she saw a dark figure, a cloak spreading across her vision; she saw a flash of light, or darkness, or both. Then the images came faster, warping until all she saw was a blur flashing through her mind, useless information, nothing she could parse, impossible to calculate.

There was a feeling of disconnect, then. As if she couldn’t hold what the artifact gave, as if she overflowed with it, her pores leaking its magic.

Her vision faded and went dark.

CHAPTER26

Ru woke on the floor of the dungeon, her cheek pressed against the stone. She opened her eyes — only blackness. She was blind. Terror seized her heart, rendering her mute, the horror of one thought crashing against her like a wave: She had killed them. They were dead.

And then, as if from far away, voices came. They were talking over each other, jumbled, meaningless. The fist of terror loosened on her heart, and she breathed again. But everything hurt, and she was alone in the darkness. She curled into a ball then, arms over her head, her skull engulfed in waves of pain.

“She hasn’t eaten breakfast,” said Archie, the fragments of his distant voice converging into something Ru could understand.

“…for the doctor?” said another voice. Gwyneth, drifting in from a distance.

“I’ll take her,” said another voice, much closer, deep and accented. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her to her feet before sweeping her off them entirely. “Archie’s right. She hasn’t eaten yet. She’s not used to this grueling schedule.”

“This must be documented and reported,” said a toneless voice that came to Ru’s ears, almost warped, as if she were underwater.

Then her head bumped against something hard, and she hissed in pain.

“Shit, sorry,” said Fen.

And a moment later she was on her feet again, her vision returning, but blurry and spotted. She rubbed her eyes, swaying. Again, she found herself at Fen’s mercy, when she was at her most alone and confused. A familiar terror began to course through her.

What had she done?

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