Page 55 of Demon Hunger
Crouching, I moved further into the room and hid behind a tall wooden crate. The spot afforded me a better view of Drevan’s battered body. His arms were trembling slightly. Every one of his muscles was taught and shining with sweat.
He took several deep breaths, and at last, lifted his eyes to meet Professor Fennix’s.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded, even though there was nothing about his expression or posture that indicated he was.
Carefully, Professor Fennix dipped one of her hands in a large jar that rested on the floor. Even though the liquid in the jar was clear, when she pulled out her hand, it was shining a deep blue color, glimmers of a lighter shade swimming around. Extending the stained hand forward, she pressed the clean one to it, palm to palm. The color transferred until it looked like she was wearing two long, enchanted gloves that fit perfectly.
She began waving her hands and chanting the spell in a language I couldn’t understand. She made intricate patterns with her fingers, leaving traces of light in the air, like a sparkler on the fourth of July. When her chanting stopped, a ball of magic hovered between her hands, crackling and flickering.
Drevan braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut, his body trembling like a too-taught wire. Professor Fennix released her magic and lobbed it directly into Drevan’s chest.
20
AsProfessorFennix’smagichit him, Drevan screamed, his body writhing and convulsing as if he were having a seizure.
I pressed a hand to my mouth to repress a gasp that would get me discovered and watched the blue magic spread from his chest to the rest of his body. His skin turned a pallid gray. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he thrashed and screamed again.
The horror of his pain was compounded by a sudden change in his features. His muscles bulged and flattened. His chin and cheekbones turned sharp as knives. Horns jotted out of his skull just to shrink back again. Black claws, sharper than scalpels, broke through his fingertips, sending golden blood splashing to the stone floor. Huge fangs pushed past his lips, while more ichor dribbled down the sides of his mouth.
All along, Drevan writhed and screamed, his body nothing but the vessel for the awful agony.
Tears slid down my cheeks as I struggled to breathe through the large knot in my throat. It seemed as if the torture would never end. I was about to yell for them to stop when Professor Fennix slashed a hand through the air, and Drevan went completely limp, his body returning to a fully human shape.
With a nod from Fennix, Director Grant rushed to Drevan’s side. He pressed a button, and with a click, the restraints around Drevan’s wrists came loose. Quickly, Grant caught him and eased him to the floor.
“Stubborn bastard,” Grant said, staring at Drevan’s pinched face. “Anyone else would be dead.”
Professor Fennix approached. “I wish he would let me heal him, at least.”
“Not when it might interfere with his hare-brained idea. Do you think it worked this time?”
She shrugged. “If it didn’t, at least this torment will be over with. I don’t think I could’ve kept going if there were more spells to try.”
To try what?Why was Drevan putting himself through this?
“He’s coming to,” Grant said.
Drevan let out a moan. His feet twitched. A few beats later, he sat up with Grant’s help. His breathing was laborious. He looked like someone who had been on the brink of death and had barely climbed back out.
“Can you stand?” Grant offered him a hand.
Drevan took it and rose to his feet, swaying precariously and managing to stay upright only thanks to Grant’s help. He staggered to a nearby table and braced himself against it.
Director Grant and Professor Fennix stood off to the side, looking defeated. Somehow, they knew that whatever they’d been attempting hadn’t worked.
“It was a waste of time,” Drevan said, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as the blotches and scorch marks on his body slowly healed.
“It wasn’t,” Grant said. “At least we tried. We don’t even know if it would have worked, had we managed it.”
Drevan reached for his shirt, which was draped over the table.
“I, for one, am glad that I don’t have to put you through this anymore,” Professor Fennix said.
“It’s only pain, Saphira, don’t worry.”
“I should go check on Preston and the students,” she added.
