I wave him away as the guard removes the chain and Bax coughs. “We’re not his jury. Your goddess will decide his fate.”
The guard studies me curiously, squinting. I’m sure, because of the way I just referred to Bale as his goddess and not mine. And this is why I won’t allow anyone other than Lake to spend more time than needed in my presence.
Now that they’re no longer under Bale’s mind control, they do have a form of free will. Although I believe they’re too indebted to her to incite a rebellion. But as Bax has proved, it only takes one.
I won’t chance that.
“He’s not going anywhere,” I tell the guards. “Leave. I require…Bale requires privacy.”
A moment’s hesitation and then, “Yes, My Liege.” They bow before exiting the room. And I’m relieved.
I don’t like the amount of time it’s taking to bring Bale forth, to get her out of my being, and for the Otherworlders to continue to serve me in her stead. I was born and raised to be a leader, but this is more than the typical job requirement of any ruler.
I grow weary, and now that I have a better grasp on what’s to happen to Kal and why, I want immediate results. Desire is a demanding affliction. I’m ready to have my thirst quenched.
“Lake, give our guest a seat.” I nod toward Bax.
Lake anticipates my next request before I can give the order and brings over two chairs. Another reason why I keep him around. The scraping of their legs sends annoying chills down my spine. I slump down in mine. Taxed and impatient.
After Lake hands me the stationary, I offer it to Bax. He’s still standing beside his chair, staring at the cream p
aper. “You know I won’t help you.”
I sigh, having spent the last of my energy keeping up appearances for the guards. “Just do as told, and we won’t have to go through the torture routine. It’s tiring, Bax.”
To my surprise, the Otherworlder takes his seat in the chair across from me. His white beady eyes zero in on mine. “She’s draining you.”
“Not as much as you’re trying my patience.” I swing my hand out and the pen flies into his grasp. “Nice reflexes. For a beaten and bound mutant, that is.” I run a hand through my hair, deciding it might be time to trim it, after all. Less maintenance. “Tell Kal that she’s to bring the relic and shard with her if she wants you to remain alive. Oh, and I’ll be needing my ring back also.”
Bax huffs out a gruff laugh. “A ransom letter. How original, My Liege.” He bows his head in mock-respect, his restraints jangling, then scribbles out a message on the paper. He angles it for me to read: The Prince of Pain demands more cheese.
My molars clamp down. “You’ve gotten pretty liberal with your humor since escaping the Otherworld, Bax. Maybe you’d like a demonstration, something to remind you why I was even given that name?” I grab the dagger from my ankle holder and lunge, stopping the point of the blade near his jugular.
He doesn’t flinch. Stubborn mutant.
Slowly, I release some power—white currents flare and curl around my fingers. They snap at the air, and the dagger zings to life in my palm. Bax flinches as he’s shocked with low voltage. It’s not enough to put him in any real physical hurt, but his discomfort at being so close to Bale’s power is evident on his strained face.
I watch the knot in his throat bob as I pull the blade back. “Bale has no intention of keeping me alive after I give you what you want, Prince.” In a quick move, he grasps my hand with the dagger, his chains loose enough to allow him to press the blade flush against his pale skin. “Write it yourself, and be done with me.”
There’s no bluff in his words. I wait for him to blink, purse his lips, give a sign that he’s lying, but he’s as still as stone. Lake has moved next to his chair, sword raised and aimed at Bax’s head.
“Stand down,” I tell Lake. He lowers his weapon, but stays close to the Otherworlder. Finally, I twist my wrist and wrench my hand free of Bax’s hold. Twirling the dagger, I stare down at the glinting blade, the firelight from the pit reflecting off it. “I’m told you have a family.”
At this, I peek up at him. And there’s his tell. His jaw flexes. “I’m sure they need you, Bax,” I continue. “Two lonely Otherworlders in a foreign country. They will feel lost without you. And who knows what will happen to them when Kal is instructed to return to Cavan with her empress.” I tilt my head. “Your father is old. Not much of a means of support for them.”
Bax extends his hand, palm out, and I sheath my dagger before handing him a clean sheet of stationary. He transfers the pen to his right hand and begins writing. He must be furious, imaging all the ways either he or Kal will end my life. After all, he’s somewhat of a prince himself. I’m sure he’s used to getting his way. As the son of the Dark Priest, he had to have been revered, feared, respected.
“And how is your father these days?” I ask.
Clenching his teeth as he writes, Bax grinds out, “Saner than you.”
I loud laugh booms from my chest. “I’m sure Kal’s to thank for that.”
“If only she could’ve healed you, Prince,” he says, and thrusts the finished letter at me. “But your illness stems from a very vengeful, power-hungry parasite. Bale will never be satisfied. That lust you feel? That never-ending yearning for power?” He widens his eyes, raises his silver-ringed eyebrows. “Multiply that by infinity, and you can almost taste what the moon goddess suffers. She will not stop. And you are just a bridge to burn in her pursuit.”
You have what you need. Kill him.
I shake the thought from my head, and Bax cocks his. “Kal would be merciful,” Bax says.