Dense silence settled in the dining room, suffocating.
When he finally spoke, his voice hurt her ears.
“You’re stronger than I realized,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “I tested you. You were strong, yes, but this . . .” He eyed her, the dark gaze almost . . . hungry. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. First the fire summons, then this . . .”
Sandis stood and backed away from him, tripping over the bench. Her legs shook, their strength not yet fully returned. Her intestines curled around her heart before looping toward her ankles. “Kazen, no.”
The hunger intensified.
She took another step in retreat, only to feel Galt’s belly against her back. His hands clamped around her upper arms. His smile pressed against her hair.
“No?” Kazen asked, stepping around the table. Closer to her. “You understand my intentions. I know it is no coincidence, your leaving me the night we lost dear Heath. That my perfect”—he took a step—“little”—another—“vessel”—he stood before her and reached out, running the back of his fingers down her wet cheek—“broke my rules and spied about where she wasn’t wanted.”
Sandis’s body went numb in Galt’s grasp. He was the only thing keeping her upright. A shiver passed down her neck and spine, then curled upward and settled in her gut.
Kazen leaned forward until his nose was inches from Sandis’s. Without taking his eyes from hers, he said, “I’m so sorry, Galt, but your session with Sandis will have to be cancelled. Our plans have changed. I’m going to need her ripe and healthy as quickly as possible.
“I think we’ve found the vessel we’ve been waiting for.”
Chapter 23
The gold loops spun, slowly at first, but they picked up speed with every rotation.
No, Sandis thought from somewhere far away. I don’t want to see this.
The whirring noise began, a soft, comforting whistle. The heart of the amarinth glowed a steady light. It was neither warm nor cold. It began to pulse, similar to a heartbeat.
I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to think about him.
The smell of copper filled her nose. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
She tried to reach for the amarinth, but she had no arms. No body.
The darkness beyond the light of the amarinth shifted. She looked up. A hot breeze whipped by her, fiery and rough. A deep, glowing red veined the blackness. Shaped it. It moved all at once, rotating— Two narrow, stretched-diamond eyes opened and found her.
Sandis’s eyes shot open. Her dry tongue formed the name “Kolosos.”
She sat up, weary and heavy, weak from her time spent in solitary.
Dim light traced the outline of the door in the dark room. She was still in solitary—a room she couldn’t escape—but now she had her cot and blankets, and there was a tray of food and a pitcher just inside the door, along with a bucket for elimination.
She drew away from it, hugging herself on the far side of the cot. What does it mean, Ireth? Why the amarinth?
Not that it mattered. The amarinth and its owner were far away from her now. A pang echoed in her chest at the thought, making her feel hollow. She pressed her knuckles into her eyes to prevent tears. She was so tired of crying.
I don’t have much time. She needed to be levelheaded. To think. The food and water would help . . . but it would also prepare her for Kolosos. Was it better to be prepared and have a chance at surviving or to shrink into sickness and, maybe, keep Kazen from summoning his monster?
A dry, hard chuckle ripped from her throat. As if she could dissuade Kazen from doing anything.
Sandis closed her eyes. Ireth? Help me understand. The amarinth . . . it didn’t glow like that in real life. She’d seen it enough times. What did it mean?
Did Kolosos have a connection with the amarinth? But the ethereal plane was completely separate from theirs. Kazen had said so, and he had no reason to lie about that.
A small warmth budded in her center, then faded. She pressed her palm against it, trying to savor the sensation for as long as its tendrils held. “I wish I understood,” she whispered. “Give me time.”
She didn’t have time.
Stepping off the bed, Sandis crouched by the food, the floor cold against her bare feet. She couldn’t see it well, but she detected the outline of mashed potatoes, felt lukewarm gravy with her finger. There was meat beside it—this was an especially rich meal, and for breakfast, no less. The spicy smell of apple cider wafted up from a wooden cup, and she inhaled deeply, letting the scent tickle her nose. Rone loved apple— The thought cut off sharply. Her eyes burned. Her throat tightened and ached.
Apple cider. That’s what he’d been drinking the day she met him. When he’d called her over. When he’d shared with her.
Why? She blinked away yet another frustrating tear. Why did you ever reach out to me? Why do any of it, if I was going to end up here?
She snatched the cup of cider without thought and hurled it to the other side of the small room. A loud, hollow sound echoed between the walls as the cup hit. Cider rained onto the floor.
All the burst of anger did was make her tremble. Make her cry even more. Her eyes were so sore from the tears and the wiping of them. From holding them back. She bit the inside of her lip and forced a deep breath into her lungs, then out again. In, out. In, out.
What was he doing now? He’d gotten his mother out of Gerech, surely. Was one thousand enough to cover that? As she pinched the bridge of her nose, her thoughts spun. You should have let me check with the other mortgage broker. I could have found him. He might have saved us both.
Why do you get your family, but I can’t have mine?
Sandis swiped her index finger over the top of the potatoes and put it in her mouth, forcing herself to swallow. She needed to think. She needed energy. She’d work this out— The locks on the door clicked in uneven rhythm. Sandis barely had enough time to move out of the way before the door opened. Her stomach soured when she saw Galt standing in the door frame.
He glanced at the food and scowled. “I’ll shove it down your throat if you don’t eat it.”
She cringed. Celestial, I’m a pig being fattened up for slaughter. “I just woke up.”
He rolled his eyes. “Eat it. Now.”
Sandis picked up the tray and took it back to her cot. Finding a fork on the edge of it, she worked on the potatoes. Those seemed the easiest to stomach.
Galt must have noticed the spilled cider, for he cursed and spat, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Sandis shoveled another forkful into her mouth, staring at her tray.
Galt popped his knuckles one by one, as if trying to make her hear his frustration at not having time with her yesterday. He knew how to hurt someone without causing lasting damage. Maybe that was why Kazen liked him so much.
Maybe Kazen had been the one to teach him.
She was halfway through the meat when Galt said, “Enough. I don’t have all day. Let’s go.”
Penitent. Obedient. Quiet. Sandis set the tray aside and followed him, though the moment she stepped out of the room, his hand grabbed her arm tight enough to hurt. She didn’t let the pain show on her face.
He half walked, half dragged her through the hallways of Kazen’s lair until they got to Kazen’s office—a space Galt shared with the summoner so he could do Kazen’s bidding without delay. Sandis chewed on the inside of her cheek while Galt unlocked the door. She rarely came to Kazen’s office, even when she still sat in his good graces.