“I’m trying, Samuel,” he said, helping the man to drink some water and gently dabbing at his bloody mouth.
“What do they want? Why do they keep hurting me?”
Darius sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. They tell me that for every day Lady Shireen delays, they get closer to sending a part of you back. I keep convincing them to give me more time, and they keep sending me back in here after a ‘session,’ as they call it. They tell me to take careful note of your condition so that I can accurately report it to the others.”
“Lady Shireen doesn’t have the authority to grant a piece of the Greenweald to them. Only Lord Jamshir can do that. And he’s—"
“I know, my friend. I know. Here, have some more water.”
Darius purposely tilted the cup slightly too far, causing the water to rush into Samuel’s swollen mouth. The man began choking and Darius quickly lowered the cup.
“Easy, Samuel. Easy. I’ll leave the cup; they say I can do that much anyway. Then I need to go.”
“No! Don’t leave me! Please! It’s so dark in here.”
“I know. But if I don’t obey they won’t let me back in here. And I need to return to Lady Shireen and try again. I only hope that…”
He let his voice trail off with a sigh.
“What?” Samuel’s voice was ragged.
“I shouldn’t—”
“Tell me!”
“I guess you have the right to know. After the last time, Lady Shireen told me not to come back. There was nothing she could do for you.”
“What?”
The lie was shocking enough that Samuel would have a hard time believing it, unless Darius went in and twisted his thoughts just so. When Samuel was left in the dark again, waiting for the masked figure to come back with his tools, that was the perfect time.
“I’m sorry, Samuel. I haven’t given up. I’ll convince her, I promise.”
He stood and turned to leave, his foot “accidently” kicking over Samuel’s water cup.
“Oh, dear. I am sorry. I’ll see if they’ll let me bring more.”
He moved away, passing through the bars and taking the light with him. Once outside the cell, he turned a corner and extinguished it. Behind him, he could hear Samuel’s sobs of misery.
“Perfect,” he muttered, and closed his eyes to let his mind reach out.
Samuel’s thoughts were a tangle. He didn’t know which way to turn. He hurt, he was thirsty and hungry, and didn’t want to believe that Shireen would betray him like that. And that was the thread in the knot that Darius needed. He encouraged that one to grow, along with the fear, turning it slightly.
Let it become anger at Shireen and the whole Greenweald. Those who would use him and then abandon him. Syrus told him how well this worked, even to someone with magical ability. To one like Samuel, it was even more effective.
There, leave him like that, on the knife edge of fear and rage. Let it build. Underneath the rest, Darius could feel the other thing he needed. Gratitude to him, wrapped up in a healthy amount of suspicion. Samuel was taking what he could from Darius, but he wasn’t stupid. Well. A few adjustments there, and the gratitude would soon become overwhelming, the suspicion would fall away.
He smiled and opened his eyes.
He’d visit again in a little while. That visit would be the tipping point. Much like Malachi had done with him, the wounds that Samuel needed to have when he returned to Towering Oaks must appear to have been caused by a Soul Gaunt. To say nothing of the “message” that needed to be sent.
After that it should be child’s play to turn him the rest of the way.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Yes, what it is it?”
The voice from behind the door wasn’t Malachi’s. Darius didn’t know whose it was.
“It’s Darius,” he called through the door. “I have news of our guest.”
“Just a minute.”
There were muffled sounds from the room, then the door was opened by Melanie, one of the adepts of the House who shared a gift with him. He didn’t know her very well, only enough to nod hello in passing.
What she was doing in Malachi’s office, he had no idea. Nor did he know why that new fellow, Thaddeus he thought the name was, was there either.
“Am I interrupting?” He looked around Melanie to where Malachi was seated at his desk.
“If you were, you wouldn’t have been let in,” Malachi growled. “What do you want?”
“As I said, I have news of our guest.”
“What guest is that?” Thaddeus asked.
Darius was about to tell him that it wasn’t anything he needed to know when, to his surprise, Malachi answered.
“The aide to Shireen. We have him, and Darius here is responsible for turning him. Bringing him into the fold as an asset we can use.”
“I see.” Thaddeus’s face grew cold. “I imagine I know the tactics you’re using.”
Ah, right. This was the man that Syrus turned. He was Florian’s cousin or some such thing, from Whispering Pines, wasn’t he?
“I’m sure you can,” he replied, a grin splitting his face. “I understand you’re quite familiar with them.”
Thaddeus eyed him for a moment and Darius enjoyed the flame he saw flare up in the other man’s eyes. Good. Let him remember the pecking order.
Strangely, Malachi stayed quiet during the exchange.
“I believe I can return Samuel tomorrow. Tonight, he needs to be seen to, by you.”
Malachi took a moment before answering.
