Page 100 of Eldritch
“Where are we going?” she asked, trailing after me.
“To the cellar.”
In my periphery, I saw her skid to a halt, as we passed Zevander still searching the office. “What’s in the cellar?”
“Have you not seen what he kept down there?”
Aleysia shook her head.
“Wait here a moment.” I hurried toward the kitchen, and a distant memory of conversation echoed in my head, from the day I’d come for brunch and met the Lyverian server, the one who’d spilled a drink on my dress. As I searched the drawers, I could almost hear her voice, pleading with me not to press her for information about Moros. How he had abused her so horrifically. I threw open one of the drawers, causing a clatter from the knives held within. Grabbing two of the sharpest, I rushed back to Aleysia and handed one to her. “Kill first, ask questions later.”
“I’ve never actually stabbed someone before. I’m a little nervous.”
“Try not to think about it too much.” Without further discussion, I opened the door to the cellar and scampered down the stony staircase, past the wall of grotesque curiosities, until I rounded the corner to where the enormous tank resided.
Aleysia let out a gasp from behind.
The once-clear tank water had turned green, and two bodies floated prone on the surface, their faces still covered in the breathing masks. Glancing around, I searched for something strong enough to break the barrier. An iron garden chair off in the corner caught my eye, and I dragged the heavy piece of furniture toward the tank. Gripping the back of it, I let out a deep breath and hurled the chair into the glass. The tank shattered on impact, spilling small shards of glass and filthy water ontothe floor. The mermaids inside tumbled out on a wave of tank water that stank like rot and mold. Landing on the floor, they lay motionless, their skin peeling and dangling from their bodies in spots.
I knelt alongside the one nearest to me and carefully tugged on her mask. The barrier resisted at first, but I yanked a bit harder, and the mask sucked away from her face, taking a small bit of skin with it. The girl didn’t move. Didn’t so much as flinch, even though the raw patch of skin showed where the mask had fused to her cheek at some point. I ran my finger over her forehead and tucked the hair behind her ear.
The sound of grunts and moaning drew my attention toward where Aleysia sat over the second girl.
The young woman flopped and gasped, her body seizing as she seemed to struggle for breath. Alive!
“Remove her mask!” Before I could scramble across the floor toward her, Aleysia set her knife to the woman’s throat. I froze, my limbs locked. “Aleysia, what are you doing?”
She dragged the blade across her neck, and a spray of fresh blood splashed in Aleysia’s face.
A dark, unsettling fear threaded itself through my ribs, squeezing my chest. I lifted my blade toward my own sister, the one I’d been determined to save, my hand trembling. Cold shock gripped my muscles as I stared down at the other woman’s gaping wound, and the blood that mingled with the dirty water across the ground toward me. My mind fought to grasp what had just happened, trying to reconcile how my sister could be capable of such a thing.
I looked back to Aleysia whose eyes held a wild glint as she turned her palm over for the blood across her fingers.
After moments of violent twitching and sputtering, the young woman stilled.
“What did you do?” My voice rasped with the tightening of my throat. “Why would you do that!” The knife shook in my grasp.
“What kind of life would she have lived in such a condition? I showed her mercy.” Aleysia’s words made the conversation I’d had with Zevander spring to mind. Had she heard us talking back at the cottage? Her gaze dipped to my outstretched blade and back. “What are you going to do? Killmefor sparing her a life of utter misery?”
A sickening dread twisted in my stomach as I glimpsed the blade in my hand. “Kill her,”Morsana’s voice chimed in my thoughts. “Do it.”
Shaking my head, I lowered the blade. Keeping my eyes on my sister, I cautiously slid closer to the woman she’d killed.
“Please don’t look at me like that,” she said through a shine of tears. “Like you loathe me.”
I lowered my gaze from hers. “You didn’t have to kill her. Not that way.”
“And what way would’ve been better, Maeve? At least I was quick about it.”
Ignoring her, I brushed the girl’s hair from her face, tears wavering in my eyes, and two small spiders scampered across the ground toward me. Before they could reach me, Aleysia skewered both of them with her knife.
The ease and proximity that she’d wielded the blade set my teeth on edge, the hesitation in her no longer there.
Frantic, I twisted around, gaze darting in all directions in search of more spiders. Only dusty cobwebs and shadows decorated the dank walls. Perhaps just simple house spiders.
A shadowy figure strode toward us, and I looked past my sister to see Zevander, his brows tightening as he approached.
“They were left here to die.” My voice cracked on the last word. I didn’t know what it was that troubled me about themso much. From the moment Moros had shown them to me, I’d remained haunted by them. Even if Aleysia was right, even if the young girl would’ve struggled to survive in her state, I hated that she hadn’t been given the choice of whether to live or die. I hated that she’d been robbed of so many choices.
