Page 154 of Nightshade

Exiting the cottage, I scanned the few party guests who had begun to cross back over the bridge to the main dome, where the crowd had gathered around the tables. I kept to the outskirts, the shadows, and, on passing, heard a vaguely familiar voice that carried over hushed whispers.

“My dear friends, thank you for attending this year’s Hallow Harvest Fest. I encourage you to partake in drink and merriment! Servants will be providing refreshments all throughout the night, along with something very special. A bit of a passion project of mine, if you will.” A husky man in an elaborate gold robe and a thorny crown of twigs and leaves stood in the center of the dome, clutching a golden staff. He held up what appeared to be a silver-colored pill. “My gift to you. I call it Rapture.”

A costumed man standing closest to me chuckled, saying he’d given some to his date earlier in the evening. When the second man standing beside him asked where she was, he hiked a thumb over his shoulder toward the cottages where sexual favors were exchanged. “Corrupting the poor bastards who followed her into that cottage. Damn near everyone’s drink is spiked with the stuff.”

Both men chuckled, and it was then I searched the crowd for the spot where I’d left Farryn before heading off after Virgil.

She was gone.

Groaning, I strode toward the corner of the dome where I’d last seen her, and found an opening, a path into the dark woods beyond. Hand brushing the hilt of my sword, I stepped into the woods, listening. At the sound of distant voices, I stalked toward a small, thatch-roofed stone hovel, situated away from the festivities, where a gas lamp flickered, illuminating shadows on the walls inside. The windows held no glass, so I could hear the voices carry on the air.

“Your skin is like silk. So smooth. So soft. Give yourself to me, and I will offer you protection.”

Lip curled in disgust at the voice I recognized as belonging to Tartys, I slammed my fist against the door, sending it swinging wide open.

In the center of the room, Farryn stood with her arm outstretched toward the deformed Intortui, who’d frozen in place, eyes wide. She snapped back her limb and jumped backward, nearly tripping over her own feet.

“Mister Van Croix …” The Intortui rubbed his crooked fingers together, seemingly nervous with my presence. “I was just … watching over your guest, while you took care of business. You did take care of business, correct?”

Farryn snapped her gaze back to Tartys. “You knew what he came to do? You were in on this, too?”

He tipped his chin up with the kind of pride I could’ve knocked clear off his shoulders. “Of course. Who do you think got him entry into the party? Was me. Me alone. And I believe there was supposed to be an exchange, of sorts.”

“That you would even entertain the thought of enslaving what belongs to me is enough to make me laugh.” I raised the sword into the air and slid my finger along the shiny steel surface. “If I weren’t imagining a blade across your throat right now.” I lurched forward, and before the deformed man could react, I propped my sword beneath his chin. “In fact, why endeavor to imagine what could easily become reality.”

“Careful now, Jericho. You wouldn’t want to incite unnecessary tensions.” The hiss of his crooked teeth reminded me of a snake.

I reached out for Farryn before she could turn away and guided her face toward me, finding her pupils dilated. “I’m afraid you’ve already set that into motion, my friend. For every action, there’s a consequence. I’m merely balancing the scale.”

“I’m fine,” she said, slapping my hand away, which set her off balance, nearly toppling her to the floor. “What exchange is he talking about?”

“A night with you.” Again, I pressed the blade into his throat, drawing a small streak of blood there.

“I retract what I said. The girl is yours. I would never trounce on your property. My apologies for suggesting such a ludicrous thing. But I will remind you, Mister Van Croix, that you promised her to me.”

“She was never a promise to you.” I watched his pulse hammer against the steel and studied the obvious fear in his eyes.

“My apologies, if I misunderstood the arrangement.”

“It’s not me who requires an apology.”

His eyes shifted toward Farryn, the flinch exposing his disgust for having to apologize to a lowly female.

“This blade grows heavier with every passing minute,” I taunted. “Who knows when I’ll tire of holding it.”

“My apologies.”

Farryn gave a sheepish smile, as if he deserved so much humility. “It’s fine--”

“You can do better than that. Address her with the kind of respect you’d show your own mother, or I will send you to the nothingness.”

“My apologies. Ma’am.” At the lift of the blade, he cleared his throat. “My lady,” he added, glaring back at me.

“There. Was that so hard?” I lowered the blade from his throat. In the next breath, the whoosh of steel sliced through the air, and that glaring expression fell to the floor with the Intortui’s decapitated head.

Farryn grew more unsteady, the swaying more pronounced, and the pallor of her face told me she might just pass out. “Y … y… you killed him.”

“I’d say so.” I wiped the Intortui’s blood on the shirt of his headless body, and held the weapon up, twisting it around to admire the gleam. Not a breath later, his body burst into flames, and she jumped backward on a squeal, straight into my chest. “Impressive weapon, this sword.”