Page 98 of The Deathless One
Blinking, Jessamine slowly nodded. “Right, we’ll answer that question once we’re out of here.”
“What about the Deathless One?”
“We find him first.” She couldn’t leave him here. Not when she knew that Callum had some other tricks up his sleeve and that he had the page to the grimoire. Looking between the buildings, she tried to remember where Callum had come out from. “I don’t know where they’re keeping him, but I can find him.”
“I’m the one with the magic right now.”
Jessamine would trust Sybil with her life. So, with a sharp nod, they both bolted into the shadows. But Jessamine was slower. Weaker. A day without food and water had her breathing harder than she wanted, and sewed a stitch in her side that just wouldn’t let up. As they snuck into one of the buildings, her heart stuttered with a horrible rhythm that wasn’t really a beat at all.
“Sybil,” she wheezed, holding on to a banister and praying no one would come down the stairs. “I can’t keep going like this.”
“Jessamine, we have to!”
“We don’t even know if he’s here. There are five buildings to look through. Just leave me here. Give me the shadows, and I will keep looking for him. But the two of us here are bound to attract—”
Arms wrapped around her waist.
She immediately twisted, trying to kick whoever had grabbed her. But then she looked up the stairwell to see that Sybil had two men around her, too. One had her around the waist, the other was gripping her head and trying to shove something into her mouth. Fabric? A rag?
“Keep them quiet!” Callum’s voice thundered from a story above their heads. “Cut out the witch’s tongue if you must, but do not let her speak.”
Jessamine froze, limp in the man’s arms as the others gagged Sybil. She didn’t want to make any noise, but she also refused to let them hurt Sybil. If she had to start screaming just to get their attention on her, she would.
Thankfully, Sybil made no noise. She just glared at them with so much hatred, and a tinge of fear that Jessamine knew deep in the very bones of her soul.
She and Sybil were alone. These men could do anything they wanted, and Jessamine was helpless to stop them.
She allowed herself to be dragged through the hallways, struggling only when they entered a large room. There was an altar at the end of it, covered in a white sheet with bowls set on the floor all around it. A hundred candles had been lit, all of them flickering with their movement as the man who held her dragged her closer and closer. It would almost be beautiful if it didn’t reek of death.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it. “What are you doing, Callum?”
“I thought that was very clear. I am doing what I have to do to make sure this kingdom doesn’t fall into complete ruin.” He gestured toward the men wrangling Sybil. “Tie her up and get her out of the way, would you? We could use her magic for this, I suppose. So give me clear access to her chest.”
Jessamine winced as they ripped Sybil’s shirt down the center. Though it bared the jagged crack through her body where her magic was kept, it also bared a breast to their hungry eyes. “This isn’t you, Callum. You already sold the kingdom to another, and now you think you can save it?”
“I promised that he could make this his dumping ground,” Callum corrected, his eyes not leaving Sybil until she was so tied up that he didn’t have to worry about her. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t then save the kingdom from the madness. I’m going to awaken your god, bind him to me, and then we will be the savior this kingdom has been searching for.”
All the puzzle pieces fell into place.
He was sick himself, but then he would weaponize the cure. He’d said he would charge a high price, but she hadn’t realized he was going to use Elric to do it.
“You can’t bring him here,” she whispered, not even fighting as the man dragged her toward the altar. “You need me to do that, and I won’t do it. No matter how much you torture me, I will not resurrect him for you. I won’t let you bind him.”
“I don’t need you to resurrect him, and I don’t need your help binding him either,” he replied with a laugh. “The spell calls for a clean sacrifice,which I assume means body and soul. Dunk the princess in the tub over there, would you?”
She kicked and struggled then, cursing a storm upon the man’s head as he shoved her into the metal tub she hadn’t noticed in the corner. She flailed her arms, digging her nails into his forearm as he held her underneath the water for a little too long. But he was so strong, and his palm on her head didn’t give her any room.
She couldn’t breathe. He was going to drown her, and she didn’t know where Elric was, so she didn’t know if she could even come back.
Finally, he yanked her out of the ice-cold bath. Teeth chattering, she hung limp in his grip like a bedraggled kitten he’d pulled out of a gutter.
The man she had once thought of as her father looked at her with cold eyes. “It’s a sacrifice, and I’ll admit, I still can see my daughter in her. What a blessing to rid myself of this weakness. Strip her for me and place her underneath the sheet.”
And then Callum turned his back on her.
“You will not touch me,” she hissed at the henchman, trying her best to pull on the magic Elric had given her. But there was no god to answer her call.
So when he shoved her around and ripped her shirt down the back, she had to admit this was really happening. She was helpless as he did the same to her pants, not even bothering to give her a word of encouragement or pity. Instead, she stood there, desperately trying to hide her body from the eyes of all the other men in the room.
