Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“No!” he said on a strangled gasp.
“Good. Good. We won’t have to do it that way.” She shoved the blade back out of sight. “We can do this the easy way then. I’m pleased. You want to please me, don’t you, Gerrond?”
“Y-yes,” he stammered.
“We’re on the same page. Tell me what you know of Kerrigan Argon,” she said.
“I already told Bastian everything I know about her. I met her when the call went out. I convinced her we were allies. I listed everyone who was at the House of Shadows. And then I got her and her little friends into the city with my drifters. I wanted protections for the drifters before…”
She clicked her tongue against her teeth. She tugged another longer knife from her belt and tapped it twice against his throat. “No more negotiations. No more demands. It’s just you, me, and my knife. We don’t want to get off topic.”
“I told him they were coming. I gave them the information I was provided.”
“Why did you not tell them about the dragons?” she asked. “Or the armory raid. We lost a lot of good weapons and two dragons with their riders. Good Society members. Good Red Masks. Good dragons.”
Gerrond shrugged helplessly, eyeing her knife with abject fear. “I didn’t know the whole plan. I did everything Bastian asked. I swear I did.”
“So she didn’t trust you as much as you claimed.” Isa twirled the blade. “Pity.”
“She trusted me!”
“And you were useful for that.” Isa kicked Gerrond back to the ground and slammed the blade into the palm of his hand. Gerrond screamed. “Then you revealed yourself, which made any agreements or negotiations or talks with the Father null and void. You are no longer valuable as a mole. You are no longer valuable.”
“Please, please, please,” he stammered. His other hand gripped the knife, trying to pry it free of the ground.
But she just removed a second knife, grasped his other hand, and buried it to the hilt. Gerrond’s screams were music to her ears. She was getting closer—closer to finishing her task.
The Father had told her to take her time. She didn’t have a distinct amount of time this had to lead to, but she needed it to not be quick. Oh, how she wanted it to be quick and over. But the fever of the collar was holding her in thrall. She could do nothing but follow orders.
“Gerrond, Gerrond, Gerrond,” she cooed. “There’s so much screaming. If you’re not careful, I’ll have to cut out your tongue. Then how will I get my answers?”
Tears streaked his cheeks as he gradually reined in the horrible sounds he was making. He was still crying, barely fighting back from more shouting. But her threat had worked.
She spent the next hour in the cell. Gerrond had no new information. The Father hadn’t thought that he would. He’d wanted to torture him. He’d wanted Isa to torture him.
Oh, how Mother would revile this.
The mother she had never known.
The wife of a killer. The mother of a killer. Perhaps she too had been a killer.
Isa would never know. She only had the Father.
“You’re lucky, Gerrond,” Isa said as the red, sticky blood covered the floor. “You get to be useful a second time. We’re going to send you back to Kerrigan with a message—one she’ll know all too well.”
Isa removed his head. It’d go on a pike. It’d reach Kerrigan’s ears. The Father was sure of it. Someone else would retrieve it, but for now, Isa was done.
The compulsion to obey diminished. She felt her limbs return to her, her will return to her. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out of the cell.
“Quite moving,” the Father said.
Isa stilled. She hadn’t known he was watching. “To your liking?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes,” she admitted. It was not a full lie. She was too good at her work. But it was also not entirely the truth, because she would not have ever done it otherwise. For answers, yes. But not for someone like this.
“That’s my girl. Your mother would be proud. We’re one step closer.”
“Was she a killer too?” Isa asked as she turned to face him in the darkened dungeon.
“You follow in her footsteps,” he assured her. He wiped a smear of blood off her cheek. “You do her memory justice.”
For once, Isa did not feel relief at those words.
She felt disgust.
Chapter Forty-Four
The White Dragon
Darby
Darby slept in the aerie as she waited for news, only leaving to do her work with Amond in the infirmary. Her healing magic had improved under his tutelage, more than it ever had with the strict Bryonican regimens. She felt like she was finally thriving as the healer she’d always wanted to be.
But her friends might all be dead, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything else right now.