Page 139 of Demonic Cage
I open it again, letting the uncomfortable feeling guide me. When I reach the end, a bitter taste fills my mouth.
With trembling hands, I look at the two pages that didn’t belong to the book before.
My Little Champion!
I’m glad you’ve arrived in Herebu. When you have
a chance, please send a postcard! (Nárs confirmed a few days ago that this is the custom in your world – whatever that means) I hope the herebias are slowly recovering; it would have been wiser if they had chosen the rivers under the cave.
I tortured Léthé to illness for you; she wouldn’t have been
able to finish them off. Not that I’m complaining that you
distracted me…
Find what you’re looking for, but you know
you won’t find it there.
Forever yours,
And you, mine,
D
I gasp and immediately cover my mouth, but no one comes.
I slam the book shut and throw it to the end of the bed.
Nárs confirmed a few days ago…
Darya knew. He knew I would escape. I think of his satisfied look, how he laughed at my attempt to flee. I’ve never feared anything as much as that smile.
My body chills as, amid the panic, a memory flashes before my mind’s eye. Something he said when I sat on his throne.They can’t reach her unless we allow them to.
Darya allowed it. I didn’t divert his attention, but… Darya let me go. Why though? He said he would kill me if I stood on the side of the angels. Here I am, yet I live, though he could have taken my life. Why?
I should throw the book away. I should get rid of it. Burn it, soak its old pages, let it sink into the deep ocean.
But I can’t. Instead, I climb clumsily back onto the bed, clutching my injured arm. I open the book to Darya’s letter and freeze once more.
The parchment is blank. There’s no writing on it.
I stare at it for a while. I gasp as black dots gather on the yellowed page. The ink spreads on the thick paper until finally, the slanted characters form a sentence:
How do you like your angelic cage, my little champion?
D
