Page 55 of Ember and Eclipse
The constant pressure on her knees and chest and the weighted stretch of her bowed head were all painful. Not to mention, her exposed back bore new marks where Asear carved away pieces of her flesh.
But it all mattered very little. Death was coming for her. It lingered in the room, standing just out of sight. And it wouldn’t take her quickly.
Sometimes she saw him, a shadow within a shadow. It was Hades, or maybe it was Charon, his ferry prepared just for her. Except she had no coins to give to him. She would go with him, though, even if it meant she was cursed to stand on the shores of the Underworld for eternity. She hadn’t belonged anywhere in this life, and it would be no different in her afterlife.
The only mercy was that the pain became so overwhelming that she passed out often. When she wasn’t unconscious, the constant agony and hunger had her drifting between reality and other realms.
One minute, she would be floating in the swamp, Aloysius trailing alongside her. The next, she was being dragged through flames, blood on her hands.
And she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming it when the scent of marigolds and herbs surrounded her. Or when soft fingers danced over her neck, leaving behind the touch of cool metal. Nor when wetness dripped into her hair. She knew that perfume, that gentle touch. “Mother?” she wanted to ask but couldn’t speak.
Minutes or hours later, she opened her eyes to find a green jewel hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. The emerald. The fenty vines were still wrapped around the chain, curled and drying out. Had the necklace been there the whole time? Was it even actually there, or was she just imagining things?
The jewel manifested visions of the hunter moving her around a crowded tavern. That night’s music became a symphony in her mind, along with the laughter and cheers. She let herself be transported and stayed in that tavern, dancing as if she were free.
Until Asear dug his fingers into her back, reopening the wounds he’d left. They must have been beginning to heal. She wasn’t sure if she made any sound, but she cursed him all the same. Afterwards, her back torn and peeled open again, her magic stopped draining from her.
“Give her water and something she can keep down. If you have any other concerns, come directly to me. I want her magicandher.”
“Yes, Imperator.” Not the Maester. She wondered, vaguely, if Asear had found out that he’d gone against his wishes.
But before she could care too much, she was floating in the swamp again.
Chapter XXXIII
Theyforcedfoodandwater down her throat, and she was pretty sure she bit someone’s finger, though not hard enough to do too much damage. Even with water, food, and the brief respite from having her magic drained, she knew she was dying. Asear could only prolong the inevitable. The knowledge that with everything he took, he couldn’t overthrow her death was comforting.
It was hers for the taking.
Devdan had said that he made a revolution out of his life. Death would be hers.
When footsteps sounded in the room again, she was too exhausted to even tense. Too weak. Too broken. She imagined that, at this point, they could peel all of her flesh from her, and she wouldn’t react.
So, it was a complete surprise to her when the chains clanged to the ground, and her magic receded, no longer being drained. The ache in her shoulders and elbows sharpened into a crescendo as her arms fell several inches. A whimper left her lips, but she wasn’t strong enough to look up.
It came as more of a surprise when strong, calloused hands shifted her gently.
She cried out as she went from kneeling over the hard cushion to being turned over on her side.
“I know.”
That voice.
“Rel, I need you to stay with me.”
Another reverie, then.
She was moved again, jostled, lifted.
“Fuck.I’ll kill them all,” Death declared in a rough voice.
Rel wasn’t sure why Death would feel the need to kill anyone but didn’t question it. The only thing she was acutely aware of was that she suddenly didn’t feel any pain. She could barely feelanything. The only thing she could identify was an inexplicable feeling of want in her chest. She supposed it was her body’s way of letting her know she was dead or dying. It was good to know that at least this part of dying was painless.
“I don’t have coins to pass.” She wasn’t sure if she actually said the words aloud, but he didn’t answer either way.
There was a long pause, and she faintly heard a heartbeat before she was jostled again.
“What is this?” The Maester. “Who are you?”
