Page 21 of The Illuminated
No. No, no, no. “Good for them,” I managed.
Lucius pouted his lips, inching closer. “Still difficult for you to hear?”
“Yes, because he’s a liar, and it’s nauseating,” I said, glaring into the side of Daelon’s head as he bent to whisper to Renata, his hand brushing her wrist.
I could feel Lucius’s pull like the beam of a UFO, sucking me up, up, and away. I let it in, feeling its lightning course through my own energy like electroshock therapy. It pushed my thoughts away so easily, scrambling them up like they were nothing but insignificant obstacles. It whispered calls for release, for the channeling of raw, ineffable power.
“Tell me, Áine. Did he ever tell you that you were the first one he was gentle with? The first one that meantsomething? It’s a nice line, you see. Submissives love to hear they’re special. It’s like a drug to them.”
And just like that, I lost my thin thread of control, and I felt an intensity burst forth into the open air. Because Daelonhadsaid those things, word for freaking word. The sound of a loud crack jolted from the center of the room, a literal bright white strike of lightning touching down from the ceiling to the floor below, splitting open the tile and sending bits of stone flying. I looked up to see the painted ceiling had transformed into swirling, dark clouds. I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to reel my power back in.
Everything was still. All eyes turned toward us. The tense silence was soon broken by the sound of Lucius’s booming laughter.
“Carry on,” he said with a lazy wave of his hand. Conversation slowly took shape once more, hushed and nervous.
He stood to face me now, his eyes traveling the length of my body. My full skirt brushed against him as he leaned forward.
“Do you want to hurt him?”
“Yes.”
“Well, be my guest,” he dared. “Just don’t do anything irreversible.”
The whole huddle had turned toward us in confusion. I met Daelon’s eyes, squinted with curiosity, and I was unable to hide my rage. I knew Lucius wasn’t a reliable narrator of the stories he was feeding me. But still, at the very least, Daelon had misrepresented the truth about his relationship with Renata.
And I was soul-blisteringly angry.
“Well?” Lucius stood next to me now, his hand at my waist.
“I’m not you. I can’t just solve my every impulse with meaningless violence,” I said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hurt him,” I added. The bitterness of my voice had to be convincing, because I meant every note of it.
“I’m sure we can dream up a way,” Lucius said, low to my ear. “Walk with me.”
I didn’t like his use ofwe.Not at all. But I took his arm in mine and we walked past the circle of witches in silence, without even a glance in their direction. Lucius just looked at me, and I to him, and I knew that our combined power was blinding. I could feel my own radiance, and I could feel the fear and admiration of all those in the room at the sight of Lucius’s golden crown. The collective envy and desire of the witches in the castle was more intoxicating than elixir.
We stepped out into the corridor, letting the heavy doors slam shut at our backs.
Lucius stared down at me, his lips curling into a foreboding smile. “I promised you a tour of the dungeons. Let’s visit our old friend Nathaniel.”
To enter the dungeons from the castle, we had to first descend to the first level. We entered an area I’d never before ventured in a completely separate wing from the gallery and Clarice’s studio. The hallways became darker and less maintained, devoid of the golden detail and changing artwork of the main corridors. By the time we’d reached the heavily guarded stairwell—shielded by three burly men with hardened faces and red uniforms—the air reeked of dampness and minerals.
Next, we descended a winding staircase made of slick stone, and after a slight slip I was forced to hold onto Lucius’s arm the rest of the way down. I could hear the thumping of my heart rattling off behind my eyes like a frenzied metronome, and soon a long, dark hallway stretched out before us. The walls were built of yellowish, musty stone now, and the small orbs of light above flickered to life in welcome as we passed.
“I sense your fear,” Lucius said, his deep voice suddenly more sinister than it had been at sea level. In fact, everything about him had shifted into the darkest, most nauseating parts of his energy. From its depths, I smelled the stench of death and heard painful cries for mercy. And, creepier still, I could taste the immensity of pleasure Lucius gained from all that pain.
It was impossible to merely transport in and out of the dungeons, for obvious reasons, but the darkness that loomed here made me want nothing more.
At the end of the long hallway lay an eerily still body of murky water, with a small boat chained to a hunk of protruding wood at the edge of the stone shore. The water seemed to stretch out forever in all directions, and the cavernous ceiling above was nearly impossible to see in the darkness. When something stirred somewhere in the distance, emitting a strange gasping sound followed by a splash, I refused to step any closer.
“Yeah, you know what, I’m good, actually. I understand the gist. Nathaniel was bad, and now he’s suffering. I really do not need to see—”
Lucius unchained the boat and turned back to me. “Get in the boat, Áine,” he commanded.
I crossed my arms indignantly but immediately dropped them when an unnatural, high-pitched wail erupted in the distance. My feet seemed permanently glued in place—an instinctual act of self-preservation. I returned my gaze to Lucius. “No. Take me back.”
“Fine, then,” he breathed. In a flash, he stood before me, ignoring my protests as he threw me over his shoulder like I was nothing.
I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t reason with him. He carried me to the boat and with ease lowered me to a seat.
