Page 158 of Journey to the Elderoak
Footsteps echoed in the distance, growing closer by the second. Two pairs; one light and quick, the other slow and calculated. He squinted, trying to see in the dark abyss before him. Moments later, two figures emerged from hollow depths.
Andras and Deidamia.
The daemon queen observed him, standing preternaturally still, her blue eyes boring into his. Her white hair swished along her back as she resumed her walk.
Andras stood with his hands in his pockets and grinned, pleased at their capture. “I was hoping I’d get to see you again, general. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon.”
“Fuck you.”
“I would,” replied Andras, looking at his nails in the torchlight. “But you’re not my type.” He stepped closer, grabbing Casimir’s face with his hand. “Your girlfriend, however. She is.”
He snarled, pulling at the chains, but Andras stepped back and laughed, looking at Deidamia who had finished circling him and returned to stand by his side.
“I heard you were snooping about our camp,” she said. Her voice was ancient, low and sensual. “What were you doing out here?”
He remained silent.
Deidamia closed in and stroked his cheek, sharp nails dragging down his neck as she asked, “Where’s Ava?”
Again, he didn’t speak.
Andras smiled at him. “It doesn’t matter where Ava is. Once she learns we have her love, she’ll waltz right in here. No need to hunt for her any longer. Our spy was right. We needed to lure Ava here instead of chasing her.”
Spy? It had to be the same person who’d snuck in the assassin at the ball. The traitor they had not yet been able to identify. Who was it? Were they still there among his friends? He had no way of communicating with them, of warning them.
He yanked on the chains with fury.
Because Andras was right. Ava would come the moment she learned he’d been captured. It didn’t matter if Thorne tried to stop her. She would never listen. He had to find a way out before she arrived.
Another set of footsteps approached. Loud and pronounced.
“Oh good,” said Deidamia, turning toward the sound. “You’re here.”
Casimir narrowed his eyes as a massive daemon soldier appeared. His greasy dark hair hung in strands around his face, and he gave Casimir a broken toothed grin. The Scourge.
“General,” she said. “I’d like you to meet Vazgeth. I’m sure you’re aware he’s an old friend of your princess.”
Casimir scowled at her, remembering Ava’s torture at the hands of The Scourge. He would rip him to pieces with his bare hands the moment he was free of these chains.
Deidamia paced before him. “I’m sure you’ve figured out your magic does not work. We’ve also given you something to slow your healing. Injuring fae who heal too quickly is quite boring.”
She waved her hand at The Scourge. “Begin.”
47
“It’s been almost three weeks,” said Ava, pacing in Thorne’s suite. She had sought him out after dinner to beg him to send another team to the camp. “We’ve heard nothing from them.”
Raine, Quinn and Jorrar were present, sitting in the living room. Ava could barely function through the ache in her chest. Something was very wrong. She could feel it. Though she didn’t know how to explain it, a sense of urgency pulled at her soul. As if Casimir was calling out to her.
“Sit,” her brother urged from his place in a chair by the fire. “I’m sure they’re alright. Casimir knows what he’s doing.”
“I can’t sit,” she said as she continued her pacing.
Thorne rose from his chair and approached. “Calm yourself.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she replied, voice rising. “I should have gone. We all should have. I know the layout better than any of you.”
“It was too risky,” her brother argued, leaning against the mantle. “What if they’d captured you again?”
