Page 82 of Death of the Glass Angel
The guard was gentle enough, at least. He shoved Talon in the chair, attached a chain to his shackles, and stepped aside. A woman entered after him, slight wrinkles creasing her eyes and hair pulled into a taut bun.
She grabbed something that resembled an ice pick from the tray and studied him. “You’re not like the others.” She said in Altanese. “You’re calm.”
“There’s no need for whatever that is,” Talon assured her. “I’ll answer whatever you ask.”
“You were looking for us.” She continued. “Why?”
“I was hired to look into the disappearances.” He glanced around. “I was expecting a butcher with specific tastes. Instead, I found an entire group. Organized, at that.”
The torturer tapped the ice pick against her hand. “Are you trained?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Magic.” She spat. “Have you been trained?”
Every cefra could use magic, but an untrained stormborn could produce sparks at best.
“Yes. What of it?”
“Show me.” She pointed to the far wall.
Now there was an opportunity. Maybe Talon could kill her and the guard and pick his way loose. But without knowing where Des was, it seemed too risky.
Her safety was more important than his life.
Heeding her order, Talon focused on the wall. Every cefra channeled through a catalyst, the link through which their magic swelled. For some, it was a memory, a chant, or a gesture.
For Talon, it was fear. He could only produce magic if he was terrified. After everything he’d been through, it took quite a lot to scare him. Though it made him a better spy, using magic had become more difficult with each passing year.
“You’re right,” Talon said. “I am calm. And unfortunately, my catalyst is fear.”
The torturer eyed the tray of instruments before glancing back at him.
Talon followed her gaze, tracing over the various uncomfortable tools she would use to torment him. But physical pain had long lost its power over him. Breathing steadily, Talon looked back at her and smiled.
Shifting tactics, the woman set the ice pick down. “That girl. The princess. Do you care for her?”
“She’s a princess?” Talon lied. “News to me. Before you kidnapped us, we’d never met.”
Tapping the ice pick against her palm, the woman strode closer. “She’s at our mercy. Should you refuse to cooperate, she’ll learn what it means to know pain but not die. And after that, well. . .there’s no shortage of men here who’ve gone weeks without the touch of a woman.”
Talon swallowed as a tiny feeling blossomed inside him, one rarely felt.
Fear.
* * *
Des sat against the cold wall of the dungeon, wondering if they’d dragged Talon away to his death. Alone in the dark, she was forced to confront an unpleasant truth: she could not escape without help.
A heavy weight lifted from her heart when she heard a door open in the distance, followed by footfalls. A guard dragged Talon back to his cell and locked him inside.
Shooting to her feet, Des pressed herself against the bars. “Are you alright?”
“Mm. A bit dizzy.” He sank to his knees, eyes heavily shadowed. Blood trickled down his arm. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
Sitting, Des leaned against the icy bars. “No. An evoker questioned me. He asked about Eros and Gemellus.” She bit her lip. “He dug through my mind when I wouldn’t give him what he wanted.”
Talon narrowed his eyes. “What did he look like?”
