Page 97 of Shifter King
"Hey, stop her!"
The prince lurched away, grabbing onto the walls as one of the attendants tried to help.
She grimaced, then straightened. "I'm going to see the queen," she said.
One struck her in the side of the head. Whatever he said next blurred in her ears. They dragged her to the underground throne room and then flung her down, her feet and legs scraped and bleeding.
It hurt too much to cry. It hurt even to breathe.
"That arm looks like it's getting infected," Zorna said with faux concern. "A fourth break is probably going to be almost unbearable. I'm not even sure you can do it again. Of course, there's always the wine."
Amelia shook her head. But it was hard to bring the words to her mouth.
"Amelia." Zorna leaned closer, a predatory glint in her eyes. She whispered so low that no one else likely heard what she said. "You should drink the wine now. Your family is gone. There is nothing left out there. I heard the Abliatos destroyed them all. Such a waste. They would have made good slaves. Truly I'm surprised. At least the surly one seemed destined for Withercrown. But, no matter, it is done. You will never leave this place. So go ahead. Drink the wine. Why should you suffer any more? I think you can be useful. So very very useful, my dear. But I don't think you can keep breaking your arm and breaking your arm forever. I don't think you can even one more time. So just be done with it. Hmmm?" She motioned to one of the attendants.
Amelia kept her gaze on the woven rug, fighting to remain steady. The haze of thoughts buzzed like a wasp nest. Several stung her. Her arm throbbed and pulsed with every breath, worse than her face and neck. Brucao had said she had to hold off drinking it for as long as possible.
It had been long.
Four days already.
She closed her eyes.
They had to be close then. The Abliatos couldn't have destroyed them. If anything, it was a ruse. Or a lie. Not that she could tell truth from lie any more. Her head throbbed so much.
But what if Zorna wasn't lying? What if she told the truth?
Clearing her throat, the attendant stepped in front of her. She knelt, putting the polished wood tray with the large bronze goblet before Amelia's face.
"You drink it, and the pain stops. Everything gets better. I know I can trust you. All is forgiven. It's going to happen, Neyeb. You cannot do this forever. So why keep putting it off? You're just going to be here tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. And you don't look as if you're getting stronger. I don't think you look like you can do much at all. My particular physician will be here soon. If you are incapable of performing and proving that I can trust you, then I'll have no choice but to request that he lobotomize you." She sighed sadly. "And all those people brought out of the pit, well, if you can't tell me what they have been hiding, I see no reason why they should remain. Perhaps they should be thrown back. The pit hungers."
A flare of anger rose within her, burning down her spine. She dug her good hand down against the stone to brace herself. Her arm shook.
"Yes, get angry and rip her soul out and eat it. But do it fast. You should grab everyone in here,"the Ki Valo Nakar whispered."If you're strong enough. Are you strong enough? You're not focusing well enough. You waited too long, you damn fool of a Neyeb! Grab them all, freeze them in place, then eat one, then another. Don't try to do it all at once. Grab, eat, eat, eat, and so on."
"Well," Zorna said in a patronizing tone. "Which is it going to be, little mindreader? We don't have all night. Will you drink the wine?"
She released a long slow breath, then lifted her gaze back up to hers. "No."
Zorna glared at her, then sat up straight. She snapped her fingers at one of the attendants. "Get the manticore-cabiza venom and inject it in the bone." She smirked at Amelia. "If you're that determined to break your own bones rather than drink the wine, let's make sure it lasts."
Amelia blinked. All right. That wasn't—that wasn't going to work.
The attendant strode to the door. It clicked open, and a delighted cry sounded from the dark passage. "Oh, what an honor this is!"
Amelia stiffened. That voice—it was familiar and yet—wrong.
"No, halt. Stop, woman!"
"Forgive me, your Majesty. But it was the utmost importance that I see you now. The gift cannot wait a second longer!"
She turned, then blinked. Maybe she was already hallucinating.
REST
WroOth had grounded the transformation as much in his own state of rest as possible. Even if he could heal from whatever venom or poison they stuck him with, there might be flickering. And since he didn't know what he was dealing with, this had to be as minimal as possible in case he faltered.
So he did not alter his height or do much except somewhat feminize his current state of rest. He could use a higher pitch in his own natural voice without changing the vocal cords. Not especially creative. More was the pity. It would have been far more amusing to be entirely separate. If it weren't for the added breasts, tightening of the waist, and a few other minor alterations, he didn't look enormously different.
