Page 52 of Shadows and Flames (Twin Blades #2)
That almost left me turning my blade on myself.
“I will need time. To go back to our world and retrieve it.” To my old apartment, to my bedroom and the drawer where I’d stowed the piece of jewelry I never wore.
The home was mine, bought and paid for, but there was no telling if it stood undisturbed.
The whole bloody building could have been reduced to rubble by now—I’d not set foot anywhere near Nethras in these years away.
I just made a deal, but what if I was unable to find the bracelet?
“No,” Elián’s voice blazed through the muck. He stepped up, now shoulder to my shoulder. “There is no need. We will bring it to you now.”
I kept my mouth shut, but through whatever bond we shared, I screamed a thousand questions, a thousand curses at him for assuring something like that.
What did he even know about the bracelet?
When he’d stolen my coin and killed my Folk employer, he’d not been concerned with the item itself. I wasn’t even sure he’d ever seen it.
But when Elián glanced at me, eyes dim, he gave the minutest shake of his head. Telling me to not undermine him with incredulity.
The Queen turned her attention to Elián like the twitch of a bird of prey. “And who are you? May I have your name, Raouga?”
I lost the battle with the remainder of my better senses. “ No .”
El did not look at me. “My name does not matter. We can get you what you seek.”
She remained still, as if made out of the stone or bone or branch.
Then, another puff of air, the sensation of her wings carrying her, and the Queen was perched on her throne as if she’d never left it.
“You will come back tomorrow eve for supper. Bring me the bracelet, and I will fulfill my end of our deal.” Elián did not bow or nod or thank her, and neither did I.
What I wanted to do was demand she not draw this out, but Blackwood shoved forward, glaring at me while twisting around the pack slung over his shoulder. “As I was saying . I have come to talk trade, Your Majesty.”
She answered him without looking away from us. “What do you have in that bag?”
He deposited it to the floor, kneeling again. “Proof of Von Herron’s demise, ‘Majesty.” Blackwood had better sense than me, keeping his eyes downcast and awaiting her judgement, and I barely held onto the part of our contract that required me to protect him.
The queen twisted the golden links in her fist, keeping Francie close to the side of her throne as she watched Blackwood like a starving cat would a mouse. The trembling of her muscles was evident, making her form unclear, shaky.
One of the guards marched forward, picking up the leather pack and inspecting it with quick professionalism. Even still, they licked at their bottom lip, and their throat bobbed with a hungry swallow.
They deemed Blackwood’s offering safe, and extended the black leather to the queen who sat, I was now convinced, on a chair made of bones carved and shaved to resemble the elegant twisting of branches.
Queen Sarya pulled Von Herron’s head, now turning a greenish gray and deforming.
It hardly looked human anymore, but some other thing that had no business in the lap of this otherworldly female dressed in white.
But utter delight swept her features, as if she’d been gifted a rare jewel instead of a decomposing head.
When we decided to take Von Herron’s head with us, we assumed it would provide the assurance that Blackwood was not offering them a deal the people of Pyrestan would not need. With Von Herron certainly dead, his link between their world and ours was severed, leaving an opening for Blackwood.
What we did not anticipate was Queen Sarya, in this room in front of all her eager people, pulling flesh from Von Herron’s cheek like that of tender, slow-cooked meat. The discolored skin between her healthy brown fingertips was almost more unsightly than watching her pop it into her mouth.
She chewed slowly with eyes closed, and I fought back the saliva pooling into my mouth, warning of vomit churning. Her children were watching with rapt attention, as were the Folk behind me. But unlike me and my companions, they clearly wanted a taste.
Tomás’s dark skin took on an ashen hue, and though I could not see Fenix’s, his shuffling feet were obvious. If this Queen of the Folk enjoyed… eating corpses, the propositions thrown the Vyrkos’s way now held a much more sinister tone.
The Queen pulled another morsel off of Von Herron’s head before placing it back in the bag and buckling the flap.
When she returned her attention to Blackwood who now smelled of fear and disgust, she either could not smell it or was even happier at that fact.
“This gift pleases me greatly. You will accompany the Raouga to supper tomorrow eve, and we will speak of trade.”
“Y-Yes, Majesty.”
She batted her lashes, clicked her fingernails against the bones resting beneath her arms. “And may I have your name, valiant human?”
Von Herron’s admonishment of his old employer and business partner shone clearly as the queen’s taunting compliment reached his ears. In the face of her compliment, Blackwood looked up, stood tall. “Walter Blackwood, Your Majesty. At your service.”
And the splitting grin was back, like the great sharks in the deep waters surrounding Rhaestras. She did not have endless rows of teeth, but the ones she displayed were more than enough.
“Yes, you are.”