Page 93 of Vasmora

“According to one of the servants, three were posted inside. And the Orgoth,” a random voice answered.

“And where is the Orgoth now?” the higher-ranking soldier prodded.

“No one’s seen him. Bloodbinder is missing, as well.”

“And the mortal?”

Kaz scanned the crowd, waiting for one of them to answer.

“Servant said the last she knew, she’d been thrown into the pit. Never came out.”

“She’s down there, as well, then?”

“I’m assuming so,” the soldier closest to him offered, as Kazhimyr turned toward a gaping hole in the center of the room. “Samson was on duty in the dungeons. Bastard got his throat slit. Dead guards everywhere below, and the fucking door blown off the isolation cell.”

Dead guards? The door blown off?

Before he could contemplate too long, the leader asked, “Did the servant see an attack on Loyce?”

“She claims not,” the one who’d mentioned her earlier said.

Keeping his eyes on the others, Kazhimyr slowly backed himself in the direction of the pit.

“Someone needs to go down there.” Their superior paced, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “The Bellatryx will be here soon, and they will demand answers.”

The soldier beside Kazhimyr groaned, raking his hand through his hair. “With all due respect, Sir, Loyce sent in three guards whose magic was said to be effective against charnelyths. All of them perished. We won’t prove any more successful.”

Kazhimyr wanted to laugh at their divided loyalty.

“If she lives, and we do nothing, we are as good as dead, anyway!”

Beneath the rumble of their bickering, a low, guttural scream echoed up from the pit, and all heads turned that way.

Kazhimyr peered down into that dark hole, which looked like the floor had been riven by some malevolent force.

One of the soldiers strode up alongside Kazhimyr and pointed down into the pit. “Her screams do not sound like a soldier capable of climbing out of there. She is dying.”

“And if she’s not, she will know who hesitated.” The superior officer turned to another soldier. “I want a full interrogation of anyone posted near this room. Soldiers and servants. And what of the search for her assassin?”

One of the helmeted men from the crowd stepped forward, perhaps second in rank. “Nothing yet, Sir. We’ve scoured surrounding forests, and even into Luximos. The guards in Gildspire have been informed. They’ve initiated a city-wide search.”

“We have a dozen dead soldiers, mysterious piles of ash that hold the auras of soldiers, and anyone who might’ve glimpsed the killer is either missing or deep in a fucking charnelyth nest.” The mention of ashes clung to Kazhimyr’s thoughts, but he quickly dismissed it as impossible. “So, who is volunteering to enter the pit?”

Faces turned away, no one daring to look at their commanding officer.

Kazhimyr looked down to see three spiders scamper across the floor, toward where the other men stood gathered.

“You ungrateful bastards!” Superior pointed to one of the soldiers in the crowd. “You! Seize him!”

Two other soldiers strode toward one of the men standing at the edge of the crowd.

“No! Please, Sir! I’m begging!”

In all the commotion, Kazhimyr backed away farther. He took one glance over his shoulder at the ground below him, and without a breath of hesitation, he jumped.

Armor clanked as his body crumpled against the gritty pit floor. A high-pitched ringing in his ear had him wincing, and Kazhimyr turned over onto his back, letting out a grunt.

Within seconds, soldiers gathered at the edge of the pit, their voices rising to a cacophony.