Celine didn’t have problems sharing because she had grown up with a little sister. Violet had taken her stuff with or without permission all the time. It used to irritate her but had forced her to learn how to share.
I don’t share.
Caynin had once told Celine this. He had meant he would not share her, and she had felt like that took away her freedom. Celine looked over at Dagan and knew he didn’t share either.
Once they had finished eating the cookies, Celine fell asleep next to Dagan. When she woke, he was gone. She drifted back to sleep and woke hours later because she was hungry. She regretted eating all the cookies because now she had to go to the kitchen to find food.
She got up and put her hands in her hair and noticed how long it had grown during these past few months. It reached her bum now. Feeling lightheaded and weak, Celine rubbed her forehead then took a few shaky steps before leaning against the nearest wall, where she took a moment to close her eyes and breathe.
If only Dagan was there to carry her and to tell her that she was fine. She licked her lips and tried to forget how good his blood had made her feel.
Celine opened her eyes and slowly left the room, walking until she found the dining table, where she sank into a chair. Every movement was hard, and she wondered how long it would take her to recover.
A human servant brought her lunch, and she did not have the strength to object. The human girl had bags under her eyes, and Celine doubted she knew she was tired. Celine’s gut twisted. She regretted not saving all the slaves in the Eternity Kingdoms.
She managed a smile when she thought of Caynin and how he had not tricked her. There were no more humans in his kingdom. The downside was he, and many others, still craved their blood. Was he doing better and had his arm healed? She would go to him as soon as she could.
Celine wasn’t sure how long it would take before she could open a portal again. She wasn’t planning to do it anytime soon, which meant they couldn’t go to Moon World.
She finished her food and immediately felt better. She considered going back to bed, but then she wondered where Dagan had gone. He must be wherever the assassin had been dragged, which was most likely the dungeon – a place she never visited.
She was tired but wanted to know who had sent these assassins to kill her. She headed toward the dungeon but had to take several breaks on the way, leaning against the walls and closing her eyes.
When she eventually reached the stairs that led down into the dungeon, she was relieved. The guards there didn’t try to stop her when she pushed past. As far as Celine knew, the dungeon was empty because there was not much crime among the Fata.
Torches had been placed on either side of the stairs to illuminate her way. It was cold and musty down here, and Celine shivered. She had made it halfway down the stairs when a brutal scream reached her. She looked back, toward the guards, but they didn’t even twitch. They must know what was happening in here…
Celine was gasping for breath when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Would she faint from exhaustion? Burning her magic out was no joke, and she would have to be more careful in the future. She would eat well, rest enough, and she wouldn’t push herself to the limits.
Celine passed empty cells toward the flickering torch at the end of the long hall. Once she reached it, she pushed open the door that led into the torture room. Dagan turned to face her, but she focused past him.
The assassin had chains around his wrists attached to the roof that held him upright. His ankles were also tied together and fastened to the ground, so that he could not kick. His head was hanging, and blood dripped from his hands. Celine squinted and realized that his fingernails had been removed.
She caught her breath and clasped her hands over her mouth. To Dagan’s right was a table filled with weapons and tools whose purpose she didn’t want to know.
She felt sick.
“You weren’t supposed to see this,” Dagan told her.
She forced herself to look at him. “You did this.” She couldn’t keep the accusation or hate out of her voice.
“You’re upset,” Dagan remarked. “Why? He was going to kill you.”
“This is inhumane,” she told him.
“I am not human,” Dagan said.
She took in Dagan, with his blood-stained hands, and could only wonder how many Fata he had tortured over the years. He had once been a slave who had killed his master and gained his power by taking from others.
“Has he told you anything?” Celine asked.
“No,” Dagan said. “But he will.”
“How can you be so sure?” she asked.
“Everyone has a breaking point,” he told her.
You don’t. Dagan went to the table where a small black key lay. “The previous assassin also had one.” Dagan looked at the key as she asked, “What does it unlock?”
“I don’t think it unlocks anything,” Dagan said. “Magic is energy, and energy can’t just disappear. When the Egress Key broke, its energy flowed into you. I think whoever has sent these assassins to kill you wants them to transport your magic into a key so that they can use it as they please.”
This made sense. A key was much easier to control than a person because it could not refuse to do someone’s bidding. Celine would never let someone force her into using her power for them. She regarded the assassin wondering if she’d break if she were in his position.
Dagan touched one of the tools on the table, and Celine glared at him. “If you don’t have the stomach for this, leave.”
Celine considered obeying, but then the assassin shivered and whimpered as Dagan approached him. Dagan held a stick with a metal ball at its end in his right hand.
“This can all be over once you tell me who sent you.” Dagan raised the ball.
“If I tell you, you’ll just continue torturing me for fun,” the assassin mumbled.
Dagan drew his arm back to strike the assassin.
“Stop it!” Celine cried and grabbed Dagan’s arm. He could easily have shoved her off, but he did not.
“This has to be done,” he told her. “How will we ever win a war against the Prenumbras if we can’t make a single assassin talk?”
His words chilled her. They had never spoken of war before. Was that what was coming?
“Let me talk to him,” Celine said. Even in her weakened state, she pushed past Dagan.
“I will kill you quickly if you tell me what I need to know,” she said.
The assassin’s eyes found hers, and she could tell that he was dead inside. He whimpered, “Tarragon.”
“What?” she asked.
“It was Tarragon who hired me.”
“That’s not possible,” Dagan said. “Tarragon is locked up.”
“He still has followers who visit him in the Dark House. He still speaks to the creatures, beasts, and monsters in the ocean. They bring him messages, and he uses them to communicate with others.”
Tarragon had tried to kill Celine in the Everwhite Kingdom’s throne room. It made sense that he still wanted her dead. She hadn’t known that he would go to such extremes to kill her. She had assumed that he had done some soul-searching and self-reflection with all the time he had in that cell. He probably moped around, concocting ways to get his revenge.
Dagan despised Tarragon. She looked toward him to know what he would do with this new knowledge. “I’ll demand that Severin has him executed.”
But Tarragon couldn’t die yet – Celine had to first find out how he had beaten the Elf Prince in single combat. She needed him.
Celine approached the table of tools and selected a small knife. She went to the assassin, and he closed his eyes, accepting that death was coming. She stood on her toes, reached up and held the knife to his throat.
She had killed once before – she had killed Valeska and the Prenumbra inside her. But this felt wrong… Valeska had attacked her and could defend herself, while the assassin was tied up. Celine could feel Dagan’s eyes on her, and she knew he was doubting her. He thought she was weak and that she couldn’t do it.
The weak don’t survive in the Eternity Kingdoms.
Celine slit his throat. It was a long, clean slice from one end to the other. A gurgling followed, and she stepped back as blood flowed down his throat and chest. Celine stared, wide eyed and horrified at what she had done.
“You shouldn’t have killed him.” Dagan’s words were only making her feel worse. “There is always the chance that he is lying and that it wasn’t Tarragon who sent him. Now we won’t be able to get any more information from him.”
“I told him I would kill him quickly.”
“You should have lied.”
She challenged Dagan’s gaze with hers. Did he know how weak she felt and if he admired her for still standing up for what she believed in? Dagan admired strength more than he admired obedience.
Celine used to consider Caynin cold – he was the Everwhite Prince, after all. Dagan was always warm and charming. Maybe he had hidden his colder side from her until now.
“Am I a monster?”
“NO.”
Celine pushed past Dagan. Despite her exhaustion, she walked all the way back to her room before collapsing.
Maybe Dagan didn’t think she was a monster because he was a bigger one.