Page 39 of King of Fire and Scales

“Well, like magic."

Pyralis crouched, and Thalia nearly jolted backward again. Her elbow was throbbing, but she barely noticed. The elderly man was picking up a book tucked behind the chair, a thick one with plum-purple lining.

Thalia recognized it as he ran his long fingers along the cover, then began to flip through the pages. He licked his thumb every now and then with the blithe of a lion grooming its young.

“Ah, here it is. I am sure you already know, Thalia, as you are quite studious like me, and absorb information as fast as lightning strikes. This passage, here.”

He was approaching her, holding the book draped across a single forearm. Thalia was laboriously shifting her feet across the stone back toward where she had come.

He stabbed at the page vigorously, and Thalia paused.

“This, here. This is my family,” he said, spit gathering at the corners of his mouth like a rabid animal. “There were several generations of us, you see, before they came. Before Drake and his great-grandfather obliterated us all.”

Pyralis stared longingly for a moment, then snapped the book shut. It startled Thalia, but not as profoundly as the glare he gave her as he lifted his eyes from the book.

They were no longer desolate and lifeless. She was locked in, hypnotized by the eyes of a maniac set on a vengeance so cruel, Thalia’s innocent mind would not dare to conjure.

She had known terrible men before, men whose souls were decaying as each horrible moment lurched on. She had caught a whiff of the rotting wasteland of his essence but had been far too taken by the promise of her father’s cure.

He spoke again but sounded unlike anything Thalia had previously encountered. There was a demonic snakelike lilt as if he was a serpent having slithered out from the gruesome crooks of the underworld.

Thalia anticipated his tongue to be forked as he hissed.

“My family is the rightful heir to the throne, which means I should be ruling over the Mountain Kingdom. But thankfully, our king is far too slow-wired to catch on to my concoction. He will be busy with the war while I will be busy with my Creation Sorceress."

His smile was depraved, the faint glow of the torchlight exposing the true imp of his disposition.

It dawned on Thalia as he stared, clutching the book to his chest like a child’s wholesome relic, what exactly he was intending to do. Drake had told her she wasn’t only valuable alive as a Creation Sorceress. She also was indelibly precious once she was dead.

The fear pushed against her heels again, forcing her to spin sideways and attempt to run. As she did, she dropped the torch, the light spilling over the wall with the chair sitting against it. The book Pyralis was holding also dropped to the ground, slapping with a bleak thud on its aged face.

Thalia was able to take a few harrowing, striding steps before she felt Pyralis's cold hands grab her by the wrist. She was surprised by how they latched around her like shackles, and even more astonished by her powerlessness.

Pyralis hissed again, pulling her backward at an angle where her shoulder began to twist.

“Now, now, sweet witch. You listen to me and everything will be peachy. You will live, and your father will live. Do as I ask, and you will be well."

He had backed against the wall and pulled her into his arms, her wrists clasped roughly and fastened behind her back. She continued to shake as he caressed his fingers along her chin.

“No! Drake!” she screamed.

“No matter, then. I do not expect submission from such a temptress.”

Before Thalia could cry out again, she tasted something sour and foul. Pyralis had pressed a wet cloth over her nose and mouth, and she was engulfed in the awfulness but not for very long.

The orange smolder of the torchlight was devoured by the terrible dark.

TWENTY

DRAKE

Drake scoured the entirety of the castle. He teemed with rage. He hunted on his own two feet through the private wing, and then into guest chambers. It was a large area to cover, so he summoned some of the guards to help. One of them included the man who was assigned to protect her.

He approached the king sheepishly. Drake had no time for that.

“Out with it. Where is my Creation Sorceress?”

He stood tall and then blurted out the words. “I went with her to the royal library, My King,” he stuttered. “She used her powers to…”

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