Page 133 of Eldritch
“Give me the fucking elixir! It’s the least you can do.”
“And if you don’t wake from it?”
“Leave me. I’d sooner dine with the gods than waste away in this cell.”
Expelling a breath, Theron raked his fingers through his hair and paced. “She won’t keep you here. I heard her bragging about how strong you were to survive it. She admires you.”
Zevander let out a bitter chuckle. “Oh, what honor. To stand at the brink of death for her admiration. That is a badge you’ll proudly carry into the afterlife, I’m sure.”
He halted mid-step, his face crinkling to a frown. “You think I betrayed you. That I made her privy to your conversation with Aradia.”
“If only I’d been privy to yours, I’d ensure you were strung up alongside me.”
“I kept you conscious and alert,” the spineless lapdog said, crossing his arms over his chest, as if that one favor should’ve earned him a pardon. “I sent Aradia to you.”
“You’d have only known I sought her by spying on Vaelora and me.”
“Who do you think devised this plan? Vaelora? The same girl who begged you to take her violently in order to spare her life? She was terrified of the general. It took months to convince her to defy Loyce.”
Zevander didn’t believe a word of that. Not the way her eyes, brimming with desperation, had implored him to help her. And not when Theron himself was so content to obey his master. “Then, why didn’t you speak with Aradia yourself? You had her ear that night. Why involve me, at all?”
“Because I knew, in the event Aradia chose to deceive, of the three of us, the only one the general wouldn’t kill is you. She pulled you from that pit because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her most defiant captive. My skills in healing keep me from suffering her punishment, but she has no love for me. No admiration.” His lips twitched, and he looked away, his pathetic self loathing only coaxing another hollow laugh out of Zevander.
“She admires me so much that she longs to kill me slowly.”
“She’s testing your limits. Seeing how far she can push you before you break. As I understand, you refuse her mercy every time.”
“Mercy …” Zevander spat the word like it was shit on his tongue. “Give me the elixir.”
“Your wounds are far too extensive. It will not help you. And I will not hand over your death.” He offered one more pitied glance that coiled Zevander’s guts, and turned for the cell door.
Zevander lurched, his chains clanging with the abrupt movement. “Theron!” he growled. “I must return—” He stopped himself, the delirium dulling his mind, but it was too late. The words had all but spoken themselves.
Theron twisted around with a sickening gleam of intrigue. “Return?”
Zevander shook his head. “Forget what I said.”
“Tell me, and I’ll give you the elixir.”
Zevander wished he had the luxury of telling the nosy bastard to shove his conditions up his sanctimonious ass, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let opportunity slip through his fingers so easily. He’d spent far too many days in darkness and silence, desperate to know the girl’s fate. Instead, he lowered his head. “It allows me to slip into Caligorya.”
“The dark space. This elixir gives you passage there?”
“Yes. I sometimes go there during her abuses.”
He stepped closer. “How? Caligorya is for those who seek knowledge before death. It is a gift of the gods.” Unfortunately, Zevander hadn’t been privy to that bit of information.
“I don’t know how, it just happens.”
Theron shook his head. “No. Elixir, or not, the ability to slip in and out of Caligorya requires magic.” He raised his wrist to show the band seared into his flesh. “A power we do not presently possess. Unless …”
“Unless what?”
“You’ve been chosen by the gods.” He let out a forced breath and smiled. “What fortune that would be for you. A god’s vessel. You would be venerated. The king himself would?—”
“Kill me for such a thing. Do not say a word of this, or, by the gods, if I live, I will cut out your tongue.”
“I will give you this elixir on the promise that you let me stay at your side. To bring you back, if you fail to wake.”
