The iron gate’s stuttering wail sluiced through the tangled darkness as Otaso forced it open, the dingy sphere above his head dipping and swaying, a drunken fire bug as he shoved the bars wide enough to admit his bulk. One great heave sent Aida through the air.
Body landing against the wall with a heavy thud, she collapsed the floor in a broken heap. Mouth working to pull in a breath, she clawed at the vulgar bricks. Dragging herself towards the rippling waves of fury that slammed around her skull. Beating her senseless though he stood back with his chin high. Staring down his nose at the wretched creature struggling to voice her entreaties.
“You’ll remain here until I decide what to do with you.” Swinging the barred door shut with another scream of metal, a surge of crimson washed over his hands. Locking the gate fast to all but his hand. The swell of power dimmed his orb further, the murky russet limning his harsh brow in a ruddy glow. “I suggest you consider your plight, girl. Think long and hard about what you have scorned so thoroughly and what shall become of you now.”
“Please, sir,” Aida yelled after his retreating back, arms outstretched through the jagged bars. Hoping against hope he would turn, that he wouldn’t abandon her in the empty pitch of this place. Tears and panic twisting through her, choking her on acrid bile, she attempted to give him pause. “Please, Otaso, I beg you—”
“You will beg me, Aida,” Otaso’s fading voice said, sliding through the deepening shadows. “In time, you will learn to beg very well.”
Falling to the floor once again, Aida huddled around herself. Clinging to the torn edges of her gown, she tried to shield herself from the cold that assaulted her inside and out to no avail. Now her tears burned hot and bitter, scalding her wan cheeks as the blackness became absolute.
Screaming as the first chill brush of nothingness scraped her nape, she scuttled towards the hope of a corner. Grew hoarse as unseen things grabbed and clawed, tugging and pulling at her hair and skirts. Curled into the tightest ball she could manage as the vicious dark tormented her, Aida cried out for Otaso again and again. Begged for his leniency, careless with her promises if he would just let her out.
He never came.
Chapter 3 Er’it
Years had gone into planning this exact moment and nothing would rush him. Not when he could taste the victory sweet on his tongue, no matter what happened once they descended upon the castle shrouded in night and darkness.
“I don’t like it,” General Ath'asho murmured at his side, the groaning weight of armor shifting as the warrior moved back from the ledge.
“You don’t have to like it. If that show two days ago was any indication, it’s in our favor.”
At least Er’it hoped it was. He had faith in the Hat'or but should the vision from the Goddesses that saw his victory fail, he had the army at his back. A more glorious force there had never been and perhaps never would be seen again. Years it took him to gather them all, traveling the whole of the arid nations to find the displaced, the vengeful, and the disparaged. A child king with no court, gathering his armies before he’d even bedded a woman. Revenge was all he’d ever known. For the life and title stripped away from him, the mother ground into the dirt when they cast her out. The woman who begged her son as she lay wretched and dying in filth to take back what was always his.
Dozens of kingdoms had fallen to his sword and magic, and still dissatisfaction plagued him. The visions from the Hat’or promised him greatness beyond all measure. Yet there was little victory in how easy the others succumbed. This one, the Black Mage who had collected his power from the blood of thousands over the years, he promised to be a challenge. One Er’it looked forward to with a crazed anticipation.
“My king,” Endi whispered, small fingers skimming over Er’it’s arm as she drew close enough her soft blue robe swirled around his legs. “Take care and listen to your General. We cannot lose you now.”
“Have you no faith in me?” Er’it offered her a lopsided smirk, rubbing the backs of gloved fingers across the golden-brown smoothness of her cheek. An instant of dismay that he couldn’t feel the silken texture of her skin banished as he drew his thoughts where they needed to be.
“I have every faith in you.” Endi’s full lips tipped up into a smile, nostrils flaring as she caught his musk. A warmth simmering in the rich depths of her umber eyes, her fingers trilled over his arm before she looked aside and stepped away.
A submissive act he did not appreciate at all. Lip lifting in a silent snarl, he caught Endi’s arm. Pulled her with him away from the watchful eyes of advisors and common men alike.
“Do not do this now, woman,” Er’it said through a low growl.
“Your visions showed your victory, and they did not include me, my king,” Endi whispered, refusing to meet Er’it’s gaze.
“Do not say the words as if you believe them. You do not put stock in my people’s ways any more than I believe in your one god.”
“What would you have me say instead,” Endi said with a snort that managed to sound graceful. A flick of her wrist took in the mass of bodies that rolled in waves of restive anticipation of the battle to come. “We have far more important things to worry about than my feelings on your religion or anything else, Er’it. I’ll not fail you or them.”
“I know you won’t.” Now he tugged the glove free, smoothing his
