The Lore of the Evermen (Evermen Saga, #4)

“I’m afraid I do,” said Sergei. “Open the cell,” he instructed. “Take her out there, to the interrogation area.” He inclined his chin in the direction of the green light.

Amber struggled against the guard, but it was no use. He carried her, kicking and writhing, and forcefully laid her down on her back on a hard wooden table. Her wrists were yanked together behind her head; she felt iron hoops conveniently located near her wrists and ankles, and the guard made swift work of tying her down. Amber’s chest rose and fell with every heaving breath, and she cried out.

“Yes,” Sergei said, “that’s good. Scream so they all can hear.” He looked down at her. “We’re going to need to hear more than that, though. The high lord is no fool.”

“Is she dead?” Amber said.

“Why, whomever do you mean?”

“Katerina. The high lord’s daughter. You don’t seem the type to kill a child.”

Sergei glanced toward the heavyset guard. “Nice try, young lady. Now, it’s time for you to tell me where she is.”

“Don’t even bother pretending,” Amber said, feeling rage and terror course through her in equal measure.

“As stubborn as you are, the high lord’s right about one thing. It wouldn’t be wise to mark your flawless skin. It will be smarter to make you scream—and answer my questions—while leaving your body untouched. If Altura ever survives this enemy from across the sea, it will be much easier for us to invent some story to explain your death.”

He ran a fingertip down Amber’s cheek, and she flinched.

Sergei chuckled. “I’ve never held someone captive before. Particularly such a beauty. You know, I’m actually starting to enjoy it.”

“My husband will gut you like a fish,” Amber said.

“No, I don’t think so. I think Miro Torresante has bigger things on his mind right now. He’ll find another wife, one who will bear him a child of his own. Oh, that made you flinch, didn’t it? Such a kind man, the Alturan high lord, to take on a son that wasn’t his. I wonder if he’ll be so kind when the mother is dead? What will happen to your precious child then?”

Sergei walked up and down Amber’s outstretched length as he spoke, fingertips caressing her as he wandered. The guard looked on intently, his eyes flitting between Amber’s face and her body.

Sergei suddenly vanished, leaving Amber dreading what would happen to her next. He returned a moment later, and now he held a glass jar in his hand. Sergei brought the jar close to Amber’s face, and she saw black spiders, dozens of them, climbing over each other and writhing in agitation.

“We have many creatures in our forests,” Sergei said. “The nettle spider isn’t deadly, but it is known for the pain it causes, even though it leaves no mark.”

Amber felt tears run down her cheeks.

“Scream, my pretty one,” Sergei breathed.

Amber drew in a breath, and she screamed.



Katerina was hungry. Sergei only came to feed her once a day, and there was never enough food. She knew he didn’t like her, and each time she ate, she sniffed at the food hesitantly before eating. Katerina knew all about poisons.

She knew she was in a house, with a dirt floor and a high ceiling formed by the two support trees leaning against each other, but she didn’t know anything else about where she was. She knew it couldn’t be far from her father’s palace, but even so, she’d screamed and screamed until her voice was hoarse, and no one heard her.

When he’d first brought her here, Sergei had put a seed into the ground and sat Katerina nearby. He’d said it was a test, and Katerina had to be brave. That was before she knew he was a bad man. Crouching on his heels, Sergei leaned forward and dribbled some water from a flask onto the seed.

Katerina had grown worried when he shuffled away, giving her a wide berth. Then it had all happened very quickly. The seed sprouted a seedling, which became a vine, and the leaves on the vine became more vines.

Suddenly there was a vine crawling around Katerina, wrapping itself around her arms and legs.

Katerina had tried to get away; she’d been told to be brave, but there was a strange gleam in her father’s friend’s eyes. The vine pulled her down to the ground, holding Katerina fast.

Katerina knew that eventually the essence pulsing through the vine would kill it. How long would that take? She tugged and tugged at the tendrils wrapped around her limbs, but still she couldn’t get herself free. Then Sergei left her.

She now looked down at her hands and flexed her fingers. Katerina had cried, that first day, but now she refused to cry. She was a Veznan princess, and she was determined to be strong.

Why had Sergei put her here?

Katerina’s hands were mottled with pink splotches and tingled painfully. Every time she pulled on the vine, it responded by sucking her tighter into its embrace. Her wrists and arms hurt. Dozens of green tendrils wound their way over and around her fingers.

Something on the middle finger of Katerina’s right hand flashed into her vision. It was the ring the nice lady from Altura had given her.