I expected one of two things to happen to me tonight: I would escape and live, or not escape and die. I was hoping for one, but prepared for the other. I was not prepared to live and linger, feeling death time and time again, but never dying myself, being released from an endless cycle of pain and insanity only when Sarad Nukpana decided that I had suffered enough.
To him, I would never suffer enough.
I could start screaming right now, which was what I really wanted to do, or I could change the topic from me dying a thousand deaths to Nukpana living forever. I wasn’t looking to reap a harvest; I just wanted to plant a few seeds of doubt and get the goblin’s hands off of me—and get my thoughts away from my impending future.
“The last goblin who shoveled souls into the rock was Rudra Muralin,” I said, desperately trying to keep my voice from shaking. “You know how bat-shit crazy he was.”
“Rudra was a boy with little training, and less discipline. His mind was easily controlled and consumed by the Saghred. The only source of surprise was that he managed to survive as long as he did.”
“And he didn’t have his mommy looking out for him. She dropped by your rooms, by the way. Charming woman. I see where you get it. Setting up and killing family and friends must run like a stampede in your family.”
Nukpana stood very still. “Mother and I are of one mind.”
“You both want to rule the world?”
Something deadly flickered in his eyes. “She knows her limitations.”
“And her place?” I met his gaze and forced one corner of my lips to curl into a smile. “She doesn’t seem the type to know either one.”
“She is content to rule at my side.”
I tried a shrug, not easy with my hands chained over my head. “If you say so. You need someone you can trust with you while you’re communing with the Saghred. You gave an all-too-accurate description of what it feels like to have souls pulled through you. I scream and eventually pass out, but then I’m just a puny, little mortal elf, and you’re on the verge of demigod-dom, so you probably won’t have any problems—especially not with Mommy Dearest there to take care of you and watch your back.”
Sarad Nukpana smiled and showed me his fangs. “I’ve always found it best—and more thorough—to deal with one problem at a time. Tonight, I’ll begin the lengthy and enjoyable process of dealing with you. I can hardly deny my new vassals the opportunity to see the elf they have heard so much about, brought before them in chains, displayed as the prized catch that you are. They need to see you in torment. It will serve the dual purpose of beginning to take my revenge on you, and showing every last man and woman in the temple that I can and will make them suffer just as much if they make the mistake of defying me. It will save me the trouble and inconvenience of proving myself to them. They will witness your punishment and then go and tell others. Word spreads and my position is more easily secured without the bother of having to put on a vulgar display.”
“So you can save your power for the more important—and even more vulgar—things like conquering, enslaving, and slaughtering.”
He smiled. “Precisely. One of my most difficult decisions tonight will be who gets the honor of being the Saghred’s first public sacrifice.”
I froze. “I thought you’d already determined that.”
“Sacrificing Deidre Nathrach would make the most effective statement. Killing the killer of my king, and all that. But would it be truly satisfying? Perhaps your paladin lover or your treasured nightingale would be a better choice.”
“You haven’t caught anyone yet.”
One side of his lips curled ever so slightly. “Do you know this for certain? Just because you haven’t seen them doesn’t mean that one of them isn’t chained to the altar at this very moment awaiting our arrival. How do you know I haven’t ordered that done so you can see him there as you walk down the aisle?”
“You have me confused with the one marrying you.”
“It is my goal to make our unique relationship last much longer than my marriage.”
A pair of Khrynsani entered bearing ornate robes draped over their arms.
“Perfect timing, gentlemen,” Nukpana said. One of the guards held Sarad Nukpana’s shirt for him. As Nukpana buttoned it, he continued to speak to me as if they weren’t there. “Since you will play such a critical role in tonight’s ceremonies, you should know the schedule of events. If we begin at moonrise, and nothing unforeseen delays the ceremony, I should be able to take care of all of your dear ones before dawn. They will go first to ensure that enough remains of your mind for you to be fully aware of every agony they will endure at my hands before they are allowed to die. Then the Saghred will pick up where I left off, to make certain that you share your loved ones’ terror and despair as they realize that their suffering is as eternal as the Saghred. It will be a long night’s work, but worth the effort in so many ways.”
The next guard held up a purple robe for Nukpana that was embroidered in silver.
“Tamnais’s family will go first, including Kesyn Badru,” he continued. “Once I have eradicated the stain of the Nathrach bloodline, I will put an appropriate end to Tamnais. Imala Kalis betrayed me and played the late King Sathrik for a fool, which in all honesty wasn’t that difficult. Traitors deserve to endure a death as long as their betrayal. Imala betrayed us for years, so she will suffer accordingly.”
Nukpana lifted his arms so a scarlet sash could be wrapped around his waist. “As a reward for all of his valuable information, I’m allowing Carnades Silvanus the honor of dispatching one of the sacrifices. He feels that it is fitting—and I agree—that he be allowed to perform a sacrifice himself. It will also show my subjects that even though he is an elf, Magus Silvanus is a valued partner. Carnades selected Paladin Eiliesor, and I’ve granted his request. He asked for the nightingale as well, but I refused him.” He turned to the guards. “Leave us.”
Sarad Nukpana approached me again. “I have an intense dislike for leaving what I believe are called loose ends. Without your cunning, Piaras Rivalin would not have escaped death that night in Mermeia; even that magnificent voice of his would not have saved him. Thanks to you, he escaped and has lived to cause me no end of trouble, nearly as much as you yourself.” The goblin leaned in to me, his lips soft against my ear. “You will have to tell me what it feels like to have your nightingale’s soul pulled through you as the last of his life’s blood washes over the Saghred. Not only to watch, but to share in his death, then to feel his soul struggle in vain, imprisoned for eternity in the stone.” His voice dropped to caress. “But what I most want you to share with me, through each torment and every death, is what it feels like to know with absolute certainty that there is nothing, nothing you can do to save them or yourself.”
He left me like that, shaking with terror and rage.
So much for keeping my fear from turning into mindless terror.
Chapter 20
I wasn’t standing outside the temple looking in. No, I wasn’t anywhere near that lucky. I think Lady Luck was now sunning herself on the same beach as my magic. I was just inside the front doors, my guards prepared to get me into the temple and to the altar by any means possible: kicking, screaming, carried, or all of the above. I thought I’d just walk. I could see outside, but there was no way in a very hot place my guards were about to let me do anything except look.
Not that out there was much better than in here. The temple’s doors looked out over Execution Square. The Blood Moon was rising over the Mal’Salin palace, unless Sarad Nukpana had already ordered it renamed.