Page 21 of Marked By the Dark Lord
“JudgeDannorax,” I said after several moments of magical pressure, again not reacting immediately. I hated playing his games, and while I wasn’t outright afraid of him, there were a few creatures in the world I wouldn’t tangle with willingly. Gods were first. The capricious beings were troublesomely powerful. Dragons were probably next on the list. Insanely strong, a straight-up fight against one was a death sentence most of the time. But they had weaknesses, including their arrogance, and Dannorax was a prime example of that.
The pressure lessened as I addressed him properly, and the dragon settled back onto his perch. Two other members of the Jury were not yet present, including Dachor, whom I hoped to arrange a sparring session with after we adjourned our current session.
I had far too much rage built up over the strange human woman to be able to relax without some bloodshed. Sitting onthe Jury was fun, and I enjoyed the punishments meted out, especially when I got to be the one doing them, but it so rarely resulted in the type of straight-up fistfights that let me work out my rage on someone.
Dachor was perfect for that sort of thing.
“All present members are accounted for,” Dannorax said without addressing me directly.
I stifled a frown. What was Dachor up to that he wouldn’t be present? I wondered. And how would I blow off some steam now?
“The Court is now in session,” Dannorax rumbled. “Bring forth the first defendant.”
A grin spread across my face as Abhed was hauled out from behind a door on the other side of the room. His face was bruised, and one arm hung awkwardly.
Watching him suffer some more would be a start to improving my mood, at least.
Chapter Ten
Mila
Istumbled forward through the opening in the bars, courtesy of a “gentle” push from my guards.
“Some red-carpet treatmentthisis,” I huffed, the darkened room certainly no Ritz-Carlton. Not that I'd ever stayed in one, but the phrase seemed appropriate.
I froze, spinning back as the doorclankedclose in my face. “I can speak again!”
“How joyous,” the jailor muttered in a harsh voice that didnotsound like it should be coming from a bull's mouth. “For you.”
“You know it,” I said with a grin, having absolutely no idea why I was feeling defiant. My circumstances certainly did not warrant it. I was inside a jail cell, in some weird place that shouldn’t exist. I had no idea how to get home or what future awaited me at this “court.”
“Hey, come back!” I called as the guards moved on, back out of the prison block, leaving me alone. “I want my phone call.”
There was no response. I watched, and once they left my field of view, I listened until I could no longer hear their footsteps.Silence reigned, and I abruptly felt every inch of my five-foot-three frame. Which was to say, small and scared.
The chill of the cell sank in through my ripped clothing and latched onto my bones. Its weight was oppressive, weighing me down, making every step feel like it took twice as much effort. I slumped forward against the bars, hands above my head, fingers wrapped around the vertical supports. The metal was cool to the touch.
“I take that as no phone call, then,” I said to the air. “Telegram, maybe? How the hell do people communicate here? Wherever the hell ‘here’ is? Ugh. I’d like to wake up now. This dream officially sucks.”
“Ain’t no dream, that’s for sure.”
I whirled, my heart thundering in my chest as a feminine voice spoke from somewhere behind me. Staring at the cell, I tried to find the speaker. But it was empty. Like it had been when I’d entered. The tiny bunk beds running along the left-hand wall were both devoid of occupants. As was the desk and the toilet. There was quite literally nowhere else tobe.
“Are you spying on me?” I hissed, staring at the ceiling, looking for cameras and a microphone or something. “Answer me!”
“Nobody spyin’ on you, darling, trust me.”
I stiffened as the voice again came from thin air, but that time, I could better locate the sound. Itseemedto be coming from the bottom bed. Except there was no one—
Wait a second.
The longer I stared at the bed in the deep shadows of the cell, the more I could detect some oddities. For one, the pillow and bedcover—calling it a comforter or blanket would be far too generous—were indented as if someone were lying on it. Second,I could almost make out the outline ofsomethingon the bed. It was vague, more like one section seemed a tad too blurry compared to the rest, but it was hard to see.
“Who said that?” I called softly, staring hard at that spot, wishing there were lights in the cell, not just the crappy lights in the hallway outside. “Show yourself!”
A hefty sigh preceded twin dots of red appearing over the pillow as eyelids slid back. I stifled a gasp. Unlike Lord Rokk, whose eyes were big and glowing, hers were more like pinpricks of solid red.
The eyes moved as the owner sat up. I could sort of see it happening. The color-blending effect was slower than the movements.
