Page 18 of The Devil In Blue
My ears were ringing. My heart had slowed so much that I barely knew if it was beating. Perhaps this time I would not find my way out of the void. Perhaps this time it would swallow me whole and I would finally parish the way I longed to so many times.
Figures that it would eat me alive on the only night I had found any enjoyment in a long time. But such was life. An endless struggle. A never-ending race in pursuit of happiness. The illusion that we’d one day win the race was all we had.
But I wasn’t so ignorant.
Before I faded, there was a sound. One that led me back from the void into the very real and chilly moment I was standing in. It was a man’s voice. A whimper. A fearful one that made me blink. Suddenly I was returned to a place where I could feel. See. Breathe. I slowly looked up and I saw the count with his horrifying mask still clean and polished despite the massacre around me. My breath shuddered out of me when I felt a twinge of fear tease my pulse. A fear that coaxed me back to my body and reminded me I was not empty, spent, and shriveled. I was alive. And, for some reason, I was scared.
Standing in front of the count was Father Eli, his white robes no longer pristine and instead splattered with fresh blood. His mask was on the ground in a puddle of blood along with his wide-brimmed hat. And, like three ghosts from the shadows, the trio of women in black, Naeve, Lura, and Elanor, emerged from behind the count and came to stand on either side of him. One of the count’s claw-tipped fingers was pressed under Father Eli’s chin, poised against his jugular.
I felt sick. My head was swimming. I had no choice in the matter as my feet stumbled back and I turned on wobbly legs to walk away. Lura appeared in front of me to block my slow and unstable retreat. Her footsteps were soundless. I moved my eyes slowly up to her now unmasked face and she just smiled at me, blood dripping sloppily down her chin and chest. Like a child, she put her hands behind her back and made atsksound with her tongue.
“You reject the count’s gift?” she said.
“What gift?” I said flatly.
She gently placed a hand on my cheek and turned me to look at the count again as he shoved Father Eli to the ground. He fell to his hands and knees, blood making an audible splash beneath his palms. Father Eli let out a shaky cry and cowered on the ground, head tucked in.
The count was pacing, one hand rested behind his back as he raised his other to click his metal claws together in a slow rhythm.
“I don’t understand,” I muttered.
The count’s masked face snapped in my direction and the deepest most haunting chuckle filled the space between us.
“You do not understand?” he said. He gestured toward Father Eli. “He is yours to kill, little bird.”
“K—Kill?” I stuttered. “I don’t… I can’t do that.”
Yes, you can.
Something cold slid into my hand. So cold I could feel it through my thin glove. I raised my hand up to find a dagger clutched in my fist. I dropped it to the ground with a clank, taking a step back. Delicate hands caught my shoulders and I heard a woman’s voice gently shush me.
Slowly, Elanor circled around to my front, her unblinking eyes so radiantly blue again that they were almost blinding. She was a hand taller than me, her neck swanlike in her feathery collar.
“Perhaps she truly loves these people, my lord,” she spoke, looking at me but clearly speaking to the count. Her eyes moved slowly down my body and back up. “So much so that she’s forgotten.”
Without any idea what that meant, I glanced over Elanor’s shoulder at the count. I could see his broad chest heaving with tense breaths. Whether it was disappointment, anger, or something else was beyond me, but it made my whole body rigid. There was an uncomfortable silence that spread across the room, broken momentarily by the wind as it whistled through the stairway leading to the streets of Cragborough. It was disrupted again when Lura inched toward Father Eli with a hesitant step.
“I could finish him for you, my—”
“No,” the count hissed.
Lura cowered away, dipping her head as she moved to the side.
What was this? My mind was shattered. I understood nothing and expected to wake from my psychotic episode at any moment, but I didn’t.
“Take him to Ferrothorn,” the count said more calmly. “He’ll serve a purpose yet.”
“We should just kill him now,” Elanor said.
The count gave her one elongated look and she and the others complied.
Naeve bowed her head and then, before my eyes, disappeared into misty shadows. Those shadows spread like smoke until Father Eli disappeared within them as well. I expected the shadows to fade and reveal an empty space like a magic trick, but they remained and only continued to spread.
“Shall I fetch the other, my lord?” Elanor said, her voice deep and monotone.
The count ignored her, slowly advancing in my direction. I felt rooted in place. My feet were sewn to the ground, weighted and trapped. Elanor slipped into the growing shadows as they began to consume each corner of the catacombs. I watched the count getting closer and gripped my skirts in my fists, trying to breathe.
Perhaps I was still napping beside Ellee and this was all a nightmare.
