Page 155 of Eldritch
“Speaking of vicious beasts, did the good general, your employer, intend to kill Dolion?” Kazhimyr asked, ignoring the sloshing in the pit of his gut, as the ship reeled with each swell and dip.
Dravien snorted. “Suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m a dead man, whether I tell you, or not. I was to retrieve the bloodstones by any means.”
“Was this a personal request, or at the king’s behest?”
His lips curved again, eyes narrowed on Kazhimyr. “A favor.” He buried his face in his cup and winced as he swallowed. “For Captain Zivant.”
Kazhimyr’s brows lowered. “She hired you as a favor for Captain Zivant.”
“Seems your king’s trusted don’t have a speck of loyalty in their bones.”
Kazhimyr rubbed his hand down his face. It didn’t surprise him to know Zivant was a traitor. It only concerned him that his hunt to find Dorjan might’ve carried a more strategic purpose. “Then, Solassions want the stones. That’s what this is all about. The general is only interested in the septomir.”
“General Loyce doesn’t give a damn about the septomir. She only agreed to track them down in exchange for one thing.”
“Zevander.”
Dravien’s cheek twitched as though even the sound of his name troubled him. “Her obsession knows no bounds,” he said, jaw tight.
“Are you jealous of her affections for him?”
“I’m jealous of the protection her affections affords him. Were he in my position? Having defied her orders this way, he’d suffer no more than stern words and harmless punishment.”
“I’ve heard her punishments are anything but harmless,” Kazhimyr argued.
“You’ve heard correct. And while Rydainn suffered at her hand, he never witnessed her cruelest torment. The kind I’m destined for.”
“All torment is cruel,” Ravezio said, his voice dropped to a more serious tone.
“There are levels of cruelty. The worst I’ve ever seen was what she inflicted on one of her slaves, Theron, all those years ago.” The usual smirk on his face twisted for an expression that seemed too vulnerable for a man like Dravien. One who’d undoubtedly trained himself to be charming, sly, and completely unreadable. The expression crinkling his face held far too much clarity to be mistaken for anything other than fear. “I’ve seen men suffer and die in horrible ways. If given the choice, they’d still fight for their right to keep breathing. But I’ve never heard a man scream for death so desperately as the night she strung him up. There is torture. And then there’s what goes beyond mere torture.” Dravien quickly raised his cup for another drink, and Kazhimyr caught the trembling of his hand.
“We were prisoners in the mines,” Kazhimyr said. “I heard rumors of her cruelty.”
Gaze lowered, Dravien smiled. “The stories you heard are a mere shadow. Your friend may be her favored, but make no mistake, the mask of normalcy he wears hides the nightmares. The voices. The uncertainty that any moment she might find him when he’s least expecting it. She’s undoubtedly sought him out in the mortal lands. Not even the threat of famine and disease could keep her away from what’s owed to her.”
“She hired you for coin?”
He sneered, swirling the drink in his cup. “A slave can’t be hired for coin. They do as they’re commanded.”
It troubled Kazhimyr, how easily he’d been lured into feeling sorry for the bastard.
“I’m gonna go take a piss.” Ravezio pushed his cup aside and stood.
“Be sure to aim leeward. The waves have teeth tonight, so you might grab more than your cock to steady yourself.”
Kazhimyr chuckled at that, his nausea settled enough for a swill of his drink. “Think I might have to piss, as well.”
Dravien nodded, his eyes still showing he was lost to thought.
As Kazhimyr pushed to his feet, he was certain of two things: their time on the ship had not afforded him sea-legs, and the liquor he’d consumed hadn’t dulled the gurgling in his stomach as he’d hoped. He staggered with the rocking of the ship, as he made his way up the creaky staircase to the top deck. Gusts of wind made the trek to the bow even more difficult, but the diminishing twilight had him squinting through the dark to find Ravezio.
He twisted around, looking for his friend, and heard a shout that curled the hair on the back of his neck. Ignoring his unsteady gait, Kazhimyr stumbled to the edge of the ship and peered over, searching the black water below.
Flailing hands broke through the surface. “Help!” Ravezio cried out, and without a beat of hesitation, Kazhimyr shed the scabbard at his back and dove into the water headfirst.
The black sea could’ve been ice cold, but it merely registered as tepid for Kazhimyr, whose blood temperature quickly adjusted—a blessed gift of his magic. He cut through the rough waves, swimming toward his friend, who couldn’t keep his head above water.
Something struck his leg, but Kazhimyr ignored it, keeping on toward Ravezio. When he finally reached him, the other Letalisz had just sank below the surface again, and Kazhimyr dove under for him. A soft glow lit the water beneath them, and Kazhimyr twisted around as something slipped past him. Another slipped past on the other side.
