Page 165 of The Fae Girl 1

“What is it you want?” I asked. Like I could refuse him.

“We have a prisoner who we believe has valuable information. Information we need.”

I frowned confused. “What do you need me for?”

“We want you to interrogate him, find out what he knows, get him to reveal his secrets.” He said.

“You, you want me to torture him?” I half stammered.

Uther burst out laughing and it echoed in the cold room. A few of the men around him smirked. “No girl, you misunderstand. If I want someone tortured I have men enough for that.”

“Then what…?” I began but he cut across me.

“I want you to do what you did with Rillon. I want you to do the same spell. Make him talk. Make him tell you what he knows.”

I gritted my teeth meeting his gaze.

“Can you do it?” Uther asked but I could tell he wasn’t really asking.

“I can try.” I replied.

“Good.” He clicked his fingers and two guards sprung up. “Bring him in.”

I stepped back, feeling like I needed some distance. It didn’t help that everyone there was now watching me. All but expecting me to perform.

Someone yelled out. It sounded like a scuffle. A man was dragged kicking and snarling before he was deposited in the iron chair.

The shackles rang out as they snapped them shut around his wrists and ankles but he continued to fight, continued to flail, shifting his body into angles that looked so painful.

His eyes span around the room, taking in the Council, taking in the guards and then finally they settled on me.

“Witch.” He spat.

I smirked. “I’m not a Witch.”

“Magi whore.”

“Not that either.”

I stepped closer. Not because I wanted to but I wasn’t convinced how long I could hold my magic for. How long I could wield it. Last time it’d been barely a minute. But who knows how much this man might talk. I didn’t want to fail right when he was about to say something of importance.

“I’m going to rip your eyes from your face.” He yelled. “I’ll pull your insides out and make you wear them.”

“That would be impressive seeing as you’re in shackles.” I replied clicking my neck. Stretching almost, like I was preparing for battle.

I forced my mind to go back to that moment, to remember the magic.

The man spat more venom. More words but as the veil around us fell he went silent.

I let out a low breath, I could feel it this time. I could feel the edges, I looked about staring at the air. A glistening cobweb of magic hung. A web weaved with lies and supplications.

The man was sitting limply now. His eyes glassy as if he’d been drugged. For a moment I wondered if I’d weaved the spell to thickly.

“You think you’re safe? You think you don’t have traitors in your army? Traitors amongst your servants?” He muttered.

“What traitors?” I asked.

He grinned. “They’re everywhere.” He rolled his head. “All around you.”

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