Page 218 of Eldritch
“You will return to Caligorya.” In his periphery, she lifted her gaze. “How do we establish proof?”
“The glyphs,” Theron answered quietly, and Zevander snapped his gaze toward him, venomous hatred bubbling to life inside of him. “If he returns with a new glyph, he’s communed with a god.”
“He’s done this before?”
“I’ve …” Theron seemed hesitant to answer her, at first. “I’ve not seen his glyphs, specifically, but he told me himself that he slips into Caligorya and sees visions.”
“Coward!” Zevander spat. “Are you so desperate for her affection?” The question was an insult to any other slave, but Zevander wondered if Theron had yearned for it all along.
“And what brings him back?” Loyce asked, ignoring his outburst. “How do we ensure that he will return?”
“In part, it’s his will to return. But I’ve found other methods, as well. Vivicantem. Inhaled.”
“How resourceful you’ve been, saving the rations of vivicantem I gave you.”
Tethered and seething, Zevander lifted his head, and the growl that slipped through his clenched teeth promised violence. He’d never seen another slave offered vivicantem, and he couldn’t help but wonder what dastardly deeds Theron had done to earn it from her.
“Oh, does that bother you?” Loyce ran her palm down his bare chest. “His loyalty has earned many privileges. While you lie on a stone bed, he lounges on silks and feather mattresses in his own chambers. While you feed on gruel, he dines on fresh meat and bread.”
“General, please,” Theron urged, his gaze lowered. “Shall I administer the elixir now? This one must be swallowed.”
“Yes. And if you attempt to temper me again, I’ll remove your tongue.” She gave a nod toward an orgoth waiting in the corner of the cell, and the beast stepped forward.
When his massive hands clutched either side of Zevander’s head, his grip was so strong, Zevander couldn’t so much as twitch. Theron approached, and every muscle in Zevander’s body flexed into a rigid plane of tension. The tight clamp of his jaw sent jolts of light to the back of his eyes, and his nostrilsflared as he attempted to calm the rage pulsing through him like liquid metal.
“You’re going to die for what you did,” Zevander gritted out. “Mark my words. I’ll have my vengeance.”
“You’ll have no such thing.” Loyce chuckled, rubbing her hand along his inner thigh. “Theron will be escorted by an orgoth, and you will be confined here. Completely at my disposal.” She dug her nail into his thigh, dragging her wretched talons down his flesh. “There are so many pleasures I long to explore with you, my love.”
Zevander grunted, his body so wired in fury, he might snap any moment. “Perhaps you’re not aware that yourloyalwound stitcher tried to poison you once.” A smile pulled at Zevander’s lips as he watched Theron’s face ashen. “I consumed the poison he intended for you.”
The corner of her eye ticced and she turned her attention to Theron. “Is this true?”
Face a ghostly white, Theron lowered his gaze. “It’s true that I possessed poison. And it?—”
“Didn’t kill anyone,” Loyce said, and hands behind her back, slowly paced beside Zevander. “Do you wish to kill me now, Theron?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never desired to kill anyone.”
“Liar!” Zevander growled. Surely the general wasn’t foolish enough to take him at his word. If not for the promise of pleasing the king by proving her claims about Zevander true, Theron would’ve likely been tossed in the pit long ago. “Twice, he’s betrayed you.”
“And you’ve defied me countless times, yet you live. I can assure you, no one gets away with betraying me.” She waved toward Theron. “Continue.”
Theron broke the ampoule open, and Zevander clamped his mouth shut in defiance.
Thick fingers jabbed at his lips where the orgoth holding his skull pressed his thumbs into Zevander’s jaw and forced it apart. Intense pressure brought tears to Zevander’s eyes as he fought the pain, desperate to keep his mouth closed, but the orgoth pried it open with ease.
With trembling hands, Theron poured the fluid into his mouth, spilling a few small drops on his bottom lip.
Zevander held it captured at the back of his throat for a moment, intending to spit it out at him the moment his jaw was released, but the orgoth held steady. Loyce pinched his nose, and his throat jerked with the desperation to swallow.
“Oh, come on, you stubborn mule. Swallow it!”
His throat went lax, and the fluids slipped down. Zevander coughed and gasped as the elixir burned its way down his throat.
The room widened and blurred, while the pain in his muscles and bones dissipated in the warmth. Pressure at his skull loosened, and he rolled his head back and forth, his eyelids heavy.
Loyce leaned over him, her face misshapen and out of focus. “Return to me, Lover.” Her words arrived distorted and fuzzy, as if she’d spoken them underwater, and Zevander let out a moan as the elixir sent him drifting into the black void.
