“Going to be rough to do,” Seth informed him with a savage grin as he glanced down at his side. “That dagger was poisoned. I can already feel it coursing through me. The tendrils holding me in place are draining me as well. I just sat in silence while you killed the woman I loved and you think you can break my will in the amount of time I have left to live?” Seth spat at his feet and nodded firmly. “Come try, Donrey,” he urged as he summoned his own magic. This was the exact delay he needed. Uindraely’s magic was complicated to counter, but not impossible.
“I’m going to make you a broken one, Seth. You won’t even remember Dashara,” Uindraely purred in his ear. The woman had actually moved directly behind him. Seth had to fight back the smile as he continued his spell in silence letting them all believe he was simply avoiding answering them. With as much magic as Uindraely had summoned there was no way they could sense his own spell, and not even Donrey knew how adept he was with magic, despite the years he had served House Avanti.
“Can’t you make him answer with magic?” Donrey demanded.
“I can, but it will cost you,” Uindraely replied in an overly sweet voice.
“Name your price,” Donrey growled in response, his hatred for Seth showing clearly on his face as he glared at them both.
“The little girl. Such a sweet thing and I don’t have any children of my own. I need someone to train in my arts. I think Seth’s little girl will excel in it,” Uindraely murmured as she walked slowly around him to stare into his face. She smiled up at Seth and patted his cheek lightly. “Don’t worry, Seth, I will take such good care of her,” she promised.
Seth stared down at her coldly as the last words of his spell rang through his mind. The room shook as his magic exploded against the tendrils and his hand was around Uindraely’s neck before she could stumble away. He didn’t spare time for words; he had never been the gloating sort. His other hand flashed driving his dagger into her eye to the hilt. She convulsed in his grasp, but he didn’t spare time to ensur e she was truly dead. He was already moving for Donrey with another dagger ready in his hand. The High Lord stumbled back with shock clearly written on his handsome face as he quickly summoned his own magic. Seth’s blade was a breath from Donrey’s throat as magic seized him, once more freezing him in place. Panic flared as he recognized the spell, it was time magic, and there was no counter for it.
Hemlock moved slowly forward and smirked at Seth before turning to look at Donrey. “There will, of course, be an additional charge for saving your life and remaining silent on how you squeaked like a little girl when he turned on you,” he informed the High Lord quietly. “As for the boy, I’ll find him for an additional price, but this one needs to be killed. He isn’t going to tell you what you want to know, regardless of what you do to him.”
“Fine. I’ll pay whatever you want. Just end this. I want that bastard dead,” Donrey snarled as he took a quick step farther from Seth.
Hemlock nodded and turned back to Seth, slowly pulling his hood down as he did. His expression was neutral as he studied Seth’s frozen form with deep blue eyes. “It’s not often I’m impressed,” he informed him quietly. “Pity you let yourself become shackled with love. You quite possibly could have been the most formidable person on Sanctuary. Instead you die a stupid death to save a child.” Hemlock shook his head in disgust.
“I won’t rest until you are dead.” Seth forced the words through lips that refused to move. Every syllable was mangled, but both men obviously understood. Donrey took another step back.
Hemlock sighed and shook his head. “You shouldn’t be able to speak at all, let alone threaten me,” he said softly as he rammed his dagger roughly into Seth’s gut and began to draw it painfully up toward his neck. “Evisceration is such a messy death, but it’s always a guaranteed one. If you don’t die from the poison and the shock you will most definitely die from everything spilling onto the floor,” Hemlock murmured as he glanced back at Donrey once more. “I’ll stay until he is dead and then find the boy.”
Seth braced himself against the waves of agony and summoned a thread of magic. The mental link he formed with Rose was so fragile that any magic used to detect it would shatter the spell. “Take care of him, Rose, and hide him well. They will be looking for him.”
“Where are you Seth? I can help you.” Rose’s voice was frantic in his mind and he had to fight back a chuckle. The idea of the small healer saving him was ridiculous. Rose didn’t know a single thing about battle. Her life revolved around repairing the damage people like him created.
“There are some things you don’t want to live through, Rose. Worry about Dominic, not me.” Seth felt his strength fading and the spell flickered. It was the only answer he could think to give to keep her at bay. The last thing he wanted was his son’s guardian appearing in Avanti. Even though she couldn’t fight, she would try, Rose was simply that kind of friend. She would do anything to help those she cared for.
“What about Dashara and Davahni?” Rose demanded, her voice rising in panic. She could feel the delicate connection between them fading as clearly as he could.
“Gone,” Seth answered softly as his magic faded completely. Spots had begun to dance before his eyes as Hemlock’s poison tore at him.
Hemlock moved closer to him, his dark blue eyes locking on Seth’s. “I won’t find him,” he whispered, the words barely audible despite how close he stood. “Honor among rogues and all. I told you the boy would live, and he will.”
“How fucking noble,” Seth growled as Hemlock released him from the magic that held him in place. His legs buckled beneath him and he dropped to his knees staring down at his entrails. His own blood was pooling thick on the floor, making a slow trail toward Dashara. His gaze trailed slowly up the chair once more past her ruined body to her face. Her dark eyes were fixed firmly on him. A strangled gasp broke from his lips as he realized she still lived, he had thought her dead.
“Suffer,” she hissed, her voice harsh from her torn throat. He knew her mind had fractured from the torture, yet the word still tore into him with more pain than any physical wound.