Black Halo

back, you slavering, sloppy little cu-’

‘I know maybe three of those words,’ the netherling snarled back, raising an iron fist. ‘And I don’t know what to say to make you shut up, but I do know what to hit you with.’

‘No.’

Bones shook in skin, sea retreated from shore, all eyes looked up and instantly regretted doing so. Sheraptus’ eyes were narrowed to fiery slits as they swept up to the netherling holding the priestess. Like a flower before fire, the females’ resolve withered, hands trembled, gaze turned towards the sand.

Asper’s did not, however. And from the sudden widening of her eyes, the slackness of her jaw, the very visible collective clench of every muscle in her body, it wasn’t clear if she even could. Nothing had seemed to leave her, least of all her fight. Rather, it was apparent that the moment she had met his eyes, something had instead entered her and had no plans of leaving.

And, judging by his broad smile, it was more apparent to no one than Sheraptus.

‘This is it,’ he whispered, stalking closer to her. ‘This is what I came to see, what I continue to see. This … utter rejection of the world.’ He lifted a long purple hand to her, grinned as she flinched away from it. ‘That. What is that? Why do you do such a thing? You know you can’t flee, know you can’t escape, but you still try. Instinct dictates that you sit there and accept it, yet you refuse to. Why?’ He glanced up towards the sky. ‘I had once thought it was your notion of gods, with how often you pray to them, but I see nothing up there.’

His voice shifted to something low, something breathy and born out of his heart. Yet as soft as it went, it remained sharp and painful so that none could help but hear him. His eyes drifted from Asper’s horrified stare, searching over her half-nude body. Slowly, his hand rose to follow, palm resting upon her belly, fingers drumming thoughtfully on her skin.

Her choked gasp, too, could not be ignored.

‘It’s not gods, though, is it?’ His hand slid across her abdomen, as if beckoning something to rise from the prickling gooseflesh and reveal it to him. ‘No, no … something more. Or less?’ His smile trembled at the edges, trying and failing to contain something. ‘I just … can’t tell with your breed.’ His gaze returned to hers, a lurid emotion burning brighter than the fire consuming them. ‘But I dearly look forward to finding out.’

He turned away from her, his stare settling on Kataria for a moment, white brows furrowing. ‘And this one … doesn’t even put up a fight?’ He gave her a cursory glance, then shrugged. ‘I like the ears, anyway. Load them up.’

‘W-what?’ Asper gasped. Vigour returned to her as she was forced towards the black vessel, and she struggled against her captor’s grip. ‘No! NO!’ At that moment, she seemed to notice the others, bound on the sand. ‘Don’t let him do this to me. He’s going to … to …’ Tears began forming in her eyes. ‘Help me … help me, D-’

A rough cloth was wrapped about her mouth, tied tightly as she was hoisted up and over the netherling’s purple shoulder and spirited to the boat.

‘Asper!’ Dreadaeleon cried out. ‘I can help you … I … I can.’ He gritted his teeth as crimson sparked behind his eyes, the magic straining to loose itself. ‘It’s just … it’s …’

‘Intimidating, isn’t it?’ Sheraptus shot a fire-eyed wink at the boy. ‘I felt the same way when I first beheld it … well, sans the pitiful weakness, anyway.’ He ran a finger along the crown upon his brow, circling its three burning jewels. ‘One can’t help but behold it, like a candle that never snuffs out.’ He considered the boy carefully for a moment. ‘Which, I suppose, would make you a tiny, insignificant moth.’

As soon as he said the word, the boy collapsed, tumbling backwards with his eyes shutting tightly as if to ward against the burning. Immediately, his breathing slowed, his body went still. Lenk couldn’t help but widen his eyes in fear. Nothing he had known — human, longface or otherwise — could kill with a word.

‘Dread?’ he whispered.

‘Ignore it.’

‘He’s …

‘Unimportant.’

‘Should we … do something?’

‘I, for one,’ Denaos interjected, ‘fully intend on rising up and enacting a daring rescue, as soon as I finish crapping out a kidney.’

‘Plenty of time for that when I take you to the ship,’ Xhai snarled as she seized the rogue by his hair and hoisted him up. ‘This is better, in fact.’ Her smile was as sharp and cruel as the spikes on her feet. ‘Now, I can take my time.’

‘Semnein Xhai.’

She looked up with an abashed expression that had no business on a face so hard. Sheraptus’ befuddled dismay was just as out of place and somehow even more disturbing as he canted his head to the side.

‘Do I not make you happy?’ he asked. ‘You require this … pink thing?’

‘But you …’ She bit her lower lip, the innocence of the gesture somehow lost in her jagged teeth. ‘We are taking prisoners, aren’t we?’

‘It’s necessary to understand the condition of humans, yes,’ he replied. ‘But it’s only ever seen in females, and two is more than enough. We have no need for males. Leave this one behind.’

She glanced from Sheraptus to Denaos, gaze shifting from confused to angry in an instant. With a snarl, she hurled the rogue back to the earth and swept her scowl upon the remaining netherlings.

‘If any of you kills him,’ she growled, ‘you will do it quickly and you will not enjoy it. Or I’ll know … and I will.’

‘We have what we came for, in any case,’ Sheraptus said. He made a gesture, and the tome flew from the palanquin to his hand. He spared a smile for Togu. ‘As promised, we leave your island in peace.’

‘Good,’ Togu replied bluntly.

Lenk was aware of movement, netherlings returning to their vessels, chatter between them. He paid attention to none of it, his eyes locked, as they had been for an eternity, on Kataria’s.

Her lips remained still, her ears unquivering. It was only through her eyes that he knew she wished to say something to him. But what? The question ripped his mind apart as he searched her gaze for it. A plea for help? An apology? A farewell?

He was likewise aware of his inability to do anything for her. His bonds would not allow him to rise, to escape. The searing heat and freezing cold racing through him would not allow him to weep, to speak. And so he stared, eyes quivering, lips straining to mouth something, anything: reassurances, promises, apologies, pleas, accusations.

‘Take that one to the ship, as well,’ Sheraptus ordered the netherling holding her.

It was only when Kataria was hoisted up onto a powerful shoulder, only when her eyes began to fade as she was hauled through the surf, only when her gaze finally disappeared as she was tossed over the edge of the black boat that he recognised what had dwelled in her gaze.

Nothing.

No words. No questions. Nothing but the same utter lack of anything beyond a desperate need to say something that he had felt inside of him.

And only then did he realise he could not let her disappear.

‘Very well, then,’ Sheraptus said, pointing to a cluster of netherlings. ‘You five. You have … pleased me. I think you deserve a reward.’ He barely hid his contempt at their unpleasantly beaming visages. ‘The tome is all we require. Everything else can be destroyed.’

‘What?’ Togu spoke up, eyes going wide. ‘We had a deal! You said-’

‘I say many things,’ Sheraptus replied. ‘All of them true. It is my right to take what I wish and give as I please. And really, you’ve been quite rude.’

‘Sheraptus … Master,’ Greenhair spoke, ‘I gave them my word that-’

‘Bored,’ the male snarled back. ‘I am leaving. Come or stay, screamer. I care not.’

Confusion followed as netherlings hurried back to their boats, Sheraptus idly shaping his earthen staircase and returning to his own vessel. Greenhair reluctantly followed him aboard. Blades were drawn, cruel laughter emerging from jagged mouths. Togu shouted a word and his reptilian entourage fled. White, milky eyes settled on