Page 92 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
If I can do this too...
The thought sends a chill through me. Could I have been controlling people without realizing it? No. I’d know. I’d feel it. Wouldn’t I?
I watch Tahranis’s back as he leads me deeper into the mountain. All he has to do is think a command, and my body would comply like a puppet on strings. If he wanted me dead, I’d probably slit my own throat with a smile. If he wanted me to hurt someone else...
“Where are you taking me?” I demand, claustrophobia building.
“Patience, Omneira.”
“Call me that one more time and I’ll find a way to make you choke on your own tongue, mind control or not.”
He laughs, deep and raspy. “Such delightful threats from someone in your position.”
“I’ve been in worse positions.” It’s a lie. I’ve never been this powerless, this trapped.
“Have you?” He pauses at a junction, glancing back. “I doubt that very much.”
I want to scream, to rage, to tear at the walls with my bare hands. But what good would it do? He’d just command me to stop. This helplessness is worse than any prison cell.
“You have questions. I know,” he says. “In time, you’ll have answers.”
“In time, I’ll have your head on a pike,” I promise.
His smile only widens. “We’ll see about that.”
I glare at Tahranis, narrowing my eyes to focus every ounce of my hatred. If I’m truly this Omneira he keeps babbling about, if I have powers beyond what I know, then perhaps...
—Slit your own throat.
I drive the thought outward, a crashing wave rolling through the still space between us. Nothing. Not even a flinch. He just watches me, lips curling with amusement like he knows exactly what I’m attempting.
“Having trouble?” he asks, his voice smooth as silk. “Your gifts aren’t quite working as expected?”
“What did you do to me?” I snarl, lunging forward to grab his furred collar. “How did you take my powers?”
He doesn’t even bother pushing me away, just stands there looking amused at my futile rage. “I didn’t take anything, darling.”
I try again, reaching for his thoughts, searching for that familiar sensation of slipping into someone else’s mind. Nothing but emptiness greets me. It’s like shouting into a void.
“The drink,” I realize suddenly. “Or the food? That’s why you kept insisting I eat.”
He tilts his head, but admits nothing.
Tahranis glances down at my white-knuckled grip on his coat with that infuriating smirk. I release the fabric like it’s suddenly burning hot, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly I want to tear it—and him—to shreds.
He turns without a word and continues walking. I follow, hating each step, hating the fact that I have no choice but to trail behind him like some tamed pet.
The tunnels twist and branch, a labyrinth carved into the mountain’s heart. As we walk deeper, I catch flickering movements at the edges of my vision—shadows darting across intersections, figures slipping through doorways. A woman carrying a basket disappears around a corner. Two men conversing quietly fall silent as we pass.
Are they real? Or am I finally losing what’s left of my mind?
The distant echo of voices reaches my ears. Murmurs, conversations, even... laughter? Children’s laughter, high and clear, echoing in the narrow spaces. Water trickles somewhere, a steady, rhythmic sound that feels oddly comforting in this hellish place.
“There are others living here?” I blurt out, my curiosity overpowering my resolve to stay silent. “Those people at the ceremony—and Fern—I didn’t imagine them?”
The question sounds pathetic even to my ears. Am I so desperatefor confirmation of my sanity that I’m asking my captor for reassurance?
Tahranis doesn’t bother turning around. “They do,” he says simply, as if answering whether the sky is blue.
