Page 180 of Eldritch
It wasn’t until a face slid into his periphery that he realized the Golvyn had climbed up his body, carrying a ladle of water. Zevander turned away when he attempted to pour it down his mouth.
“You must drink something. You need your energy.”
“For what?” Zevander rasped. “To watch as she takes her pleasure?”
“She is cruel, but she will not be your demise.”
Zevander sneered. “What would it matter if she were?”
Still clutching the ladle, the Golvyn lowered his head and sighed. “I am sorry for your family. It is a spiteful god who takes what we love most.”
“I wasn’t aware Golvyns believed in the gods.”
“We don’t. But you do.”
Once again, Zevander found himself staring blankly at the dark ceiling overhead. “Not anymore. I don’t believe, or feel, anything anymore.”
“You’ve given up?”
“I suppose I have.”
The Golvyn groaned and tossed the ladle to the floor, the clank of the metal against the stone only earning a bored glance from Zevander. “You know why Golvyn’s don’t believe in the gods?” He didn’t bother to wait for what would’ve been a disinterested response. “We need toseeto believe. But you …. You believe nothing more than words.”
Zevander remained silent, not bothering to dispute the fact. What more could he have relied upon, if not the word of the man who’d seen it firsthand?
“They say your family is dead. What iftheyare mistaken?”
Had he heard news through the walls? A confession that Zevander hadn’t been privy to? “Say what you mean, Golvyn. I’m in no state for riddles.”
“No riddle. I’m only suggesting that you see with your own eyes.”
Whatever minute flicker of hope he may have felt in that moment quickly perished in disappointment. “I’ll be a rotted corpse before I’m set free from this hell.”
“So, you waste away for nothing.” He opened his small palm. In it, sat a tiny red ampoule like the ones Theron had given him before. “You see things when you sleep. Perhaps you can see your family?”
Intrigued, Zevander lifted his head. “Where did you get that?”
“From your friend’s supply. He keeps them in a small box tucked inside the wall. These walls are my home.”
If nothing else, it would steal him away from the incessant memory of her robbing him of his revenge, and the revulsion of her climbing atop his body again, determined and relentless and aroused. Godsblood, the visual alone made him ill. He couldn’t stand the thought of her taking pleasure while he seethed. “Give it to me.”
With the fervor of a starving hatchling, he tipped back his head, while the Golvyn broke the ampoule, and allowed him to pour it into his mouth.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
ZEVANDER
Crooked trees peered down from above, as Zevander glanced around at his unfamiliar surroundings. A forest, but not one he recognized. He carefully stepped forward, but at crunching beneath his boot, he stilled.
Through the thick mist, what appeared to be bones, hundreds of them, lay scattered and broken over the forest floor. The empty sockets of a human skull stared back at him.
Ignoring them, he trudged forward in search of his mother and sister.
Nearly a furlong ahead of him hunched a shadowy beast, the warped curve of its spine and twisted horns leaving him to wonder what kind of animal, or monster, he’d happened upon. As Zevander trod cautiously toward it, studying the bark-like texture of its flesh, he was reminded of his brother’s ruined skin.
Face buried in the broken ribcage of a carcass, it tore at the meat with its teeth, and yet, it clutched and chewed like a man.
At another crunch beneath his boot, Zevander paused mid-step, but not before the creature snapped straight. Threads of bloody sinew strung from its mouth when it turned around, revealing the ruined face of a man.
