Page 64 of The Catacomb King
The Vizeking was clapping.
“Congratulations,” he drawled. “You did it. This is why you wanted your three days with your little pet, hmm? You were scheming to steal a precious resource from our beloved benefactor?”
“May His name be silence on our lips,” Hades said automatically. “No. We are not stealing. The runoff from the Mountain is neither a gift nor a possession of the Monarch’s. It is up for the taking, so we are taking it.”
“Everything,” enunciated the Vizeking, “is a possession of the Monarch’s.” The Vizeking’s eyes flicked to me in my low-cut violet gown. “Including that.”
The sweat dried on my bare neck and chest.
Hades stepped in front of me, blocking the Vizeking’s gaze.
The Vizeking’s voice hardened. “Enough is enough. This little tantrum of yours has gone too far. Thieving from the Monarch. Killing a person.”
Hades stiffened. I felt sick.
Then someone from the pack of worker-godlings called out, “No.”
We all looked. It was the almost entirely spiderlike godling who’d told me they would need to prepare Mackr’s body for funeral rites. He was pushing out of the crowd, scuttling over. I still couldn’t read his face, but something about his movements was uncertain but determined. “Your Suzerainty” — that had to be the honorific for the Vizeking, just as Hades wasYour Lordship— “the person who died was my younger brother, Mackr.”
Brother?
Oh, gods, no.
Meanwhile, in front of me, Hades was shaking his head at the godling as subtly as he could.
The godling went on, “His Lordship and His Lordship’s human, er, companion, they did not kill Mackr. Far from it. They tried to save Mackr. They both put themselves at great risk in a rescue attempt. The human, in fact, went first. She is not like us, Your Suzerainty, I won’t deny it, she is odd indeed, but she has done right by us. I do not think —”
The Vizeking rolled his ruby eyes and gestured lightly.
One of the Vizeking’s lackeys grabbed Mackr’s brother by the head and hurled him into the rock wall.
There was a sickening crunch.
Mackr’s brother fell to the ground. His thorax had split open on impact.
Everybody gasped.
Hades immediately backed me into the wall.
“Would anyone else care to present an argument?” the Vizeking asked.
No one said anything.
With satisfaction, the Vizeking turned back to Hades — and to me. He ordered his lackeys, “Take her to the Lake.”
Two of them approached. I was trembling all over, but I set my jaw. I was prepared to rip their little spider-eyeballs out of their heads if I had to, or die trying. But before I could move, Hades grabbed both lackeys by their necks and thrust them back. One of them massaged his throat, gagging. The other moved in again. Hades punched him hard in the human stomach. The lackey fell to the floor.
“Back off,” Hades said.
This time it was the lackeys’ turn to be still.
Under his robe, the Vizeking’s many legs flared in rage. “How dare you? She belongs to the Monarch! She belongs in the Lake! She is a sacrifice, a tribute, a meal!”
“Not yet she’s not. Right now she belongs tome. I found her. I brought her here. And when the time comes,Iwill be offering her to the Monarch. Personally.”
I stiffened. Surely I had heard him wrong. He was going to help me build the rest of the pipeline. He was going to free me. He had promised.
He had given me an army. He had kissed me. He hadrespectedme.
