Page 44 of Of Rime and Ruin
Makehimyourbitch.
Next time I see Keen—if I ever get out of here—I’m going to thank him for my new favorite mantra.
My summoning song spirals out of my mouth, muffled by my hand. I’ve been calling for the Beast for the past hour with no luck. As my spell weaves through the water, searching for my target, I recite my plan to myself.
I can’t leave a job unfinished. If I break all the rules, I’m going to do it right. I’m thorough as fuck in my little rebellions.
First, I’ll befriend this Beast. I’ll use my magic to master his mind and bend it to my will. I’ll start small, impressing him with simple tasks. Then comes phase two: get him to finish the tunnel Perrin started for me. I’ll break into the castle. Explore the fuck out of it. And then I’ll leave the Rime, escorted by the king’s own pet.
Once I break all his rules, I’ll be out of here, and the Frost King will get his dues. It’s foolproof.
I’ll work at night. The king forbade me from interacting with this creature. Whether the Beast is dangerous or there’s another reason, I’m not sure, but I won’t bring Perrin into my mess. He’s too good to spoil so young.
The night guard, on the other hand, is a sorry fellow named Vaughn who holds little regard for his job. From the moment his shift started, he settled to the floor, tucking his tail into a comfortable spiral, and leaned against the wall. He fell asleep in minutes.
Easy.
I sense the clawbeast near the beach as he enters the reach of my spell. My mind lifts, twists, and penetrates. His guard is lowered this time. I slip beneath his hardened shell, finding myself amid those black, angry swirls of thought. They rise at my presence, slithering closer, wrapping around me with curious caresses. Cold. But not enough to freeze.
Come see me?I smirk. Gods, I hope this works.
His center of self glows, flaring brighter at the touch of my Voice. The surrounding shadows lighten in color, a soft gray with a tint of blue. I approach the center, gently brushing it with my mind. He might let me—
The Beast recoils. The clouds of thoughts rear, sharpening at the edges.
Too far. I retreat to the edge of his mind.Whoa, there, Beasty. We’re friends, remember?
He doesn’t attack. Yet. I wait as his mind glides closer, closer, until finally, a shadow falls over the entrance to the tunnel that holds my frosted cage. The temperature grows impossibly colder.
Then his body appears, a dark silhouette against the dim twilight waters. I can’t make out his features, only the muscular outline of his body as it floats. Behind him, his long spiny tail twitches, the barbed tip flicking.
Hey there, Beasty. Did you miss me?
His thoughts soften, easing into curiosity.
That’s it, big guy. Come say hi. Quietly now. We don’t want to wake poor Vaughn.
My heart thrums as he glides into the tunnel, silent as the dead. He lands in a crouch at the iron gate, tucking his tail and anchoring his claws around the bars. His form crowds the space, and he ducks his head to avoid the ceiling. He glances at a sleeping Vaughn, and I swear his eyes roll a little. Then his gaze is on me, two black orbs sparkling in the low light.
Inside his mind, I brush against his center of self. Testing. His mind shivers at my touch. He’s not ready for full mind control. We’ll have to start smaller.
I glide closer, raising my hands in surrender. His eyes follow my movement, cautious.Wonder if you might do me a favor?
His thoughts slither closer, caressing me with invitation.
Here goes nothing. My projection is simple and focused: the pain in my stomach as it twists on empty. Weakness in my bones. The taste of meat, salty and fresh.
Understanding colors his thoughts. Then his inner voice rumbles deep and cold:Hungry?
He sounds like thunder on the open sea, terrifying and beautiful all at once. I shudder as fear runs along my spine, and I get the feeling I’ve trespassed somewhere I should never have wandered.
Most minds communicate in images, colors, or emotions. But words? What type of being is this?
I’m in too deep to stop now.
Yes, I’m hungry.Would you hunt for me, please?
He sends me the image of a silverfish between his teeth, fat and juicy.
