Page 65 of Demonic Cage
“I…”
“I know many things about you, Kindra. But not enough. Tell me, why don’t you want to become a champion?”
“Because I’m not the best choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“You could choose anyone, Darya. Anyone. Someone skilled with weapons, someone strong, someone with a history of fighting… anyone. I don’t understand. Why would you choose me for this? I’m just… tired.” My voice breaks. “I’ve been tiredsince they gave me the first pill. Because I couldn’t handle your fucking demons!”
“It’s about time,” Darya murmurs, “that you help yourself. Remember what I promised you?”
After you’ve done what you’re meant to do, not only can you stop taking your medication, but you’ll never be bothered by nightmares again. No more psychiatry. No more being labeled as insane.
Until now, I hadn’t taken Darya’s promise seriously. It seems unbelievable that one day I’ll no longer crave the medication. Even now, I think of the pills each day, and sometimes I feel like I would peel off my skin just to be able to take one.
“So,” I sum up, “if I open the gate, can I make a wish?”
Darya laughs.
“Of course not! Life doesn’t work that way, not even here. You have to figure it out for yourself, and believe me, you’ll figure out how to get over both the pills and the bottomless pit your brother caused.”
My mouth goes dry. Am I imagining it, or is Darya empathizing now?
I don’t believe him. He’s just making me promises, like all the other helpers have. I shake my head.
“I can’t do it.”
Darya’s face becomes porcelain. His voice carries such power that I hang on every word.
“I said you’ll get answers when you strengthen. Look at yourself. When you came here, you couldn’t lift a single stone. After three months, you were throwing Kripot’s spears without much effort. You hit the target with your daggers. You ran through a room full of demons and survived the path between the door and the throne. You didn’t collapse like the first time. You kept going. When the demon grabbed your arm, you resisted.”
My mouth falls open. Did he see?
Darya nods and strokes my face.
“Lizander spared him a merciful fate.” His gaze darkens. “I would have gutted him. Slowly.”
His gaze travels over my lips, then meets mine again. Darkness evaporates from his gaze.
“Your problem, Kindra, isn’t that you can’t become a champion. Rather, it’s that you’re not capable of seeing how you could become one.”
His words leave me breathless and with no response. I had no idea he thought this of me. Indeed, in three months, I’ve progressed more than an average person. I resolved to fight not to be sent back, and to grow stronger. I fought myself through every task with full force. I didn’t show myself any mercy during exercises, and the bad moments caught up with me only at night. But I never sat down and considered what I achieved each day. Until now. I let every hardship take me deeper into despair. The absence of medication consumed me, and I just suffered. Maybe I didn’t want to be better.
I look at Darya.
“In that mirror Nárs showed me… the Mirror of Destiny, there are two doors. What’s the other one?”
“The Gates of Heaven.”
I try to store the information, which increases my questions a hundredfold, but Darya interrupts first. His hand glides along my thigh, then up to my hip. Warmth rises along my spine at his deep gaze. His smoky breath mixes with the scent of anise. My lips still remember the taste of crystal and salt. I become so lost in the sight of his cloud-gray eyes that I lean closer, placing my hand on the Demon King’s neck. The pressure of his thumb gently strengthens. The crowd doesn’t bother us; we merge with the rhythm of the music. I feel the hot longing between us, the air scorching. My lips meet his, and the moment ceases to exist.
“Am I interrupting something?” Léthé’s voice strikes between us like lightning. I look straight into the killer, coffee-brown eyes.
“The ceremony is about to begin,” she announces. The Demon King smiles.
“Kindra, please take your seat where you were before. The River Goddess is right. It’s time to create demons.”
The ground suddenly moves, and I have to cling to the chair’s back. Emerging from the cave’s stone, columns grow in the space in front of the throne, forming a circle. A bright, solid stone table rises in the center. The monsters’ gaze fixes on it, making clear that most of the show will take place there. The Kraldem stands up. The mad, murderous look returns to his eyes, sending shivers down my spine.
