Page 20 of Return of the Darkness
“Clarify,” Nyzaia spat, stilling her blade. Soren’s face faltered, and she stuttered for a moment, frowning.
“H-He always appeared in shadows; he never showed his true self.” Nyzaia studied Soren’s pupils. She was telling the truth.
Narrowing her eyes, Nyzaia snarled, “You’re answering very easily.”
“Better to answer truthfully and take away your fun of cutting into me,” Soren countered. Nyzaia smirked and seized Soren’s other arm, drawing a new line with her blade.
“Oh, look! It’s still fun, even when you’re silent.” Soren glared at the Queen of Keres without reacting.
“I have nothing left, regardless. If I give you answers, I have nothing. If I stay silent, I still have nothing. Either way, I am a prisoner nobody will ever want. I have lost the throne I was promised, the life I worked towards. Do whatever you want to me. I’m happy to rot away here in a cell, away from all the people who want me dead.”
“All of this was for a throne?” Nyzaia sneered. Soren tilted her head.
“What else would it be for?”
“Caligh did not care about the Garridon throne; he cared about reaching Elisara through Kazaar. You must know more.” Nyzaia removed her blade and crossed her arms.
“I-”
“You what?” Nyzaia slammed her blade between Soren’s fingers, where her hand rested on the arm of the chair. “What did he plan to do if he got Elisara? What is his plan now he hasn’t? Will he return?”
“I don’t know anything else. He never told me.” Soren frowned, drawing her eyes from Nyzaia to scan the room.
“So, you based your entire betrayal on the false promise of a throne? You knew of nothing else?” Nyzaia found it hard to believe and was certain Soren held more secrets. “Perhaps I ought to summon Sadira. Maybe seeing her in harm's way might stir up some answers.” While Nyzaia had no intention of hurting Sadira, Soren did not know that. Soren’s head snapped up as she recoiled in her chair.
“No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “No, no, no.” Her eyes widened, becoming frantic as she searched the room. “Sadira did nothing! She knows nothing!” Nyzaia recalled Soren’s similar reaction after bringing up Sadira in the desert. Something about her sister triggered a reaction. Nyzaia bit her lip, suppressing a smile. She could use it to her advantage.
“She could be a better liar than you.” Nyzaia crouched before Soren, resting the tip of her blade beneath her chin to force theireyes to meet.
“No, Sadira did nothing,” Soren muttered. “Nothing. Don’t take Sadira.” Soren gripped the arms of the chair and leaned forward. “Don’t take Sadira, take me,” she repeated. “Don’t take Sadira!” She screamed so loudly Nyzaia took a small step back. “Don’t take Sadira, take me. Don’t take Sadira, take me.” Soren shook her head, her eyes clenched shut. “Don’t take Sadira, take me. Don’t take Sadira, take me.” Nyzaia frowned and removed her blade, watching the fallen queen repeat the same five words while shaking her head back and forth.
“Soren.” Nyzaia lowered her blade and reached for Soren’s chin, prompting Soren to scream again, rocking back and forth until the chair legs creaked, accompanying the sound of dripping blood and Soren’s frantic words. Nyzaia rose as the iron door creaked behind her, and Farid and Jabir stepped in.
“What’s wrong with her?” Farid asked, touching the pommel of his sword. Nyzaia shrugged.
“I won’t get anything else out of her right now. Take her back to her cell.” Farid and Jabir approached Soren, forcing her to her feet. Nyzaia waited until the sound of Soren’s repeated murmurings faded.
“Don’t take Sadira, take me.”
Chapter Twelve
Soren
“Don’t take Sadira, take me,” Soren mumbled as Jabir, a man she knew was one of Nyzaia’s guards, shoved her back into the cell. She had only been outside of it for thirty minutes or so, although time felt uncertain, and she was quickly losing all sense of it within the cell. The damp stone walls indicated she was below ground, and the lack of light made it near impossible to track the days. “Don’t take Sadira, take me,” Soren mumbled again as the keys clinked, securing the lock to her cage. They won’t take her; she wouldn’t let them take her. Soren would always protect Sadira. Curling up on the floor of the cell, Soren clutched her head and scrunched her eyes shut.
“Soren!” Help!” a girlish voice cried. Soren whirled in the open expanse of grass surrounded by trees. Her braids lashed at her face as she continued spinning, realising she had returned to Doltas Island. “Soren!” Her eyes finally found the small blonde figure atop the tree branch in the centre of the field.
“Sadira!” Soren called; her voice was much younger and smoother, devoid of its usual huskiness. “What are you doing up there?” Soren ran towards the tree, where she herself had broken her wrist when falling from it as a child. “Be careful!” she shouted at Sadira. Her young sister wriggled along the branch, searching for a way down. “You’ll tear your dress, and you know that will make you sad! Stop wriggling. I'm coming to save you.” Soren finally reached the base of the tree and clambered up onto the highest root.
“I found a baby bird on the floor. It couldn’t fly.” Sadira sniffed,pointing up at the nest on the branch above; three small birds chirped inside. “I just wanted to return it to its nest.”
“You did a great job, Sadira! But you should have asked for help.”
“Last time you helped, mother blamed you for dirtying my dresses! I didn’t want you to get in trouble again.” Soren sighed and focused on her hand movements, spreading her hands wide in front of her, aimed at the ground. Sadira gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Saving you,” Soren mumbled, focusing on her power. A warmth spread in her chest—small and delicate, but there.
“But we haven’t been learning long enough for you to do anything big!”
