Page 97 of Blood Fist

“Free me,”The voice said, sounding off. Like someone speaking without moving their tongue or articulating their lips.

“Yes, yes, my lord!” Cyrill cried, clasping his hands in front of him. “How? How can I free you?”

The flames snapped over Schok’s head.“Find the boy.”

“This is the boy, my lord. The one you said?—”

“Only the boy with the untouched magic can break that which binds me.”Schok lifted his head, letting it loll so that his unseeing face was looking right at Corric.

Cyrill tried asking more questions, but Schok began shaking. He collapsed to the floor as the flames finally snuffed out, leaving nothing but smoking skin and wheezing breaths behind.

Roaring in anger, Cyrill kicked Schok and raked hisfingers through his hair. “He said the boy, theTylockboy, was supposed to be the one! You were supposed to be strong enough!”

He began pacing around the room, muttering to himself. After several minutes, he paused, back stiffening as a thought occurred to him.

“The…Tylock boy…” his words were slurred against his fingers as he tapped his lips. Quickly he collected his coat, pulling it on as he grabbed at Schok. Carelessly, he shoved him towards the cage. Schok, half conscious, fell onto Buzzard's cage, catching himself on the bars. From Corric’s vantage point, he could see his brother’s fingers slipping the latch before Cyrill tossed him into his own, locking it.

Before the door had properly slammed, Buzzard was reaching for Schok. He was curled in on himself, breath rattling from between bloodied lips. His cage door was ajar, but Buzzard didn’t look at it.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said adamantly.

“You don’t belong here,” Schok rasped.

“Neither do you!” Buzzard chirped, tears filling his pretty eyes. “We’ll go together. I’ll pick your lock and we can?—”

“They’ll never stop hunting us if I go. Without me you have a chance to be free, pretty bird.” Schok opened his eyes, wincing at the pain but looking at Buzzard. “Birds don’t belong in cages.”

Buzzard shook his head stubbornly, but Schok just huffed. Ashes fell from his mouth as he pushed himself up on a shaky arm.

“I want you to go. That way...I can close my eyes and picture you free. With the sun on your wings and the wind in your hair.” Schok leaned his head against the bar. “Find the sky, Buzzard. Find it for me.”

Tears falling down his face, Buzzard looked like hewas going to argue, but one look at Schok silenced him. Instead, he plucked a small feather from his mangled wing and slipped it into Schok’s hand.

“This feather will always bring you back to me.”

The teenager clenched his hand around the feather, holding it against his chest. “Fly. Fly away from here.”

Biting down on a wobbling lip, Buzzard did just that. He crept from his cage and limped from the room. Schok collapsed in a sooty heap, pressing the feather to his chest as he let unconsciousness take him.

Corric’s feet sunk into sand as his surroundings changed once again. Unlike the fetid heat in the room before, he was cold. His breath fogged up in front of his face as he got his bearings.

He was alone, standing in the dark beside a massive body of water. Grains of sand trickled across his boots as he shifted, looking for any sort of landmark or anything that could help him orient himself.

The water itself was near black. It leisurely lapped at the shore. It must be a lake. But the biggest lake he’d ever seen. It stretched so far that he couldn’t see the other side. Its glassy surface was eerily calm, like the vats of black dye he’d seen at the tanners shop back home.

Even the grains of sand beneath his feet were dark and pebbly. Heart hammering in his chest, he licked his lips and took several steps down the beach towards the water’s edge.

The only light was from the far horizon. It bled across the lake in a watery light, like the sun itself was trapped beneath the waters and struggling to pierce its dark surface.

As he scanned the waters, he felt eyes on him. Corric spent years hiding in the bush, trying to outwit Jonen and outrun Ridan. He knew when he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck roseand, in a swift motion, he spun, crouching defensively.

Adult Schok was standing just a few feet away from him. Arms by his side, fingers spread, he stared down at Corric with an unseeing gaze. He was wearing the battered clothes he’d attacked the festival in, and his hair was black with soot.

Thrall.

Hands shaking, Corric took a step back. “Schok?”

There was no response save for the dancing of his fingers, a spark licking across the digits as they moved. Corric’s breath came quicker as he glanced around. He had no protection from the flames, and even if he could get close enough, would he really be able to hurt Schok? Would it matter? Corric had no idea if this was a dream or a vision or if he was really inside his brother’s mind.