Jomi's demand was still ringing in Madeira’s ears as she gasped for breath. Everard was on his knees in front of her, grunting with his head pulled back to reveal the soft pulse in his throat. Her brave ghost was grappling with an enemy that could destroy him, just to give her precious ticks with which to escape. She just needed to get to the door.
Fresh tears poured down her face as she wobbled where she stood, anchored by her dead leg. Through the sparkling film of water the black cane several meters away looked to be as far away as Leth.
"I'm sorry, Jomi." she cried, hands over her face. "I'm so sorry."
Everard had pulled his head out of Jomi's weak grasp. With a motion like he was sweeping away the curtains from a window, he turned at the waist and slashed Jomi across the chest with the imbued knife. A curl of soulmist followed the blade out and disappeared in the still air. Then he pulled back and slashed him again. And again. Each time a little piece of the soul was pulled out and destroyed.
"Stop it! Everard, Stop!" Madeira was shrieking, unable to do anything to stop her cousin hurting her only ally.
There was a dull thud as Everard stuck the point of the blade into the floor. Madeira flinched. She couldn’t bring herself to see if he had pinned Jomi with the knife like a butterfly under a pin, or if he had simply lost interest in the weak spirit. Then there was no choice but to wait there, feeling her heartbeat tap fast and uneven through to the tips of her fingers, as he lazily got to his feet. A crackling could be heard from the shuddering wicker box as the cat, gone mad with the noise and chaos, tried to chew its way out.
"You think you're better than me?” Everard finally spoke, leaning in and gently cupping his hand under Madeira’s jaw. "Maddy, dear, you're not better than me. You're more obedient than I am. You come when you are called, are sicced on the things they want destroyed. That's not what they asked of their favoured, sweetheart, thats the same thing they ask of their dogs." His hand was tightening as he spoke, his fingers digging into the hinge of her jaw and levering her mouth open. ”You collect broken things and have them call you Master. Jomi, Allister, sweet little Emma... You like it, don't you? Gives you a little thrill, playing at having power? To be the diseased queen of worthless creatures?" His fingernails were biting into her cheeks. The soft parts of her mouth were comically and grotesquely contorted under the pressure, but she dared not swat his hand away. ”Being favoured takes more than being a dutiful little girl. And that's all you are. That's all you were made for; just another tool for people better than you."
He let her go. She recoiled as he reached out and patted her gently on the cheek, like an older brother might. Then as if he had lost interest in her too he stepped away, picking his way over the debris to the basket.
Madeira's leaned against the wall, unable to stay upright on her own, and coughed until her mouth was sour. She couldn't look at Jomi. She didn't want to see what he thought of his master expressed in his black eyes. The master who promised to protect him when she couldn't even protect herself.
Everad was standing there, watching them. Madeira blinked away the tears and saw her cane still lying discarded several meters away.
"My cane", she croaked, new tears glistening in her bloodshot eyes. “I need my cane."
Everard didn't answer. He crossed his arms and stood there, waiting.
Shame burned through her. It was a low, rumbling thing, like the shaking of the earth. Tears ran in rivers down her cheeks as she slid down the wall and lowered herself to the floor. And like that, on her knees, red faced and heaving with suppressed sobs, she dragged herself across the floor.
Fresh tears poured down her face as she wobbled where she stood, anchored by her dead leg. Through the sparkling film of water the black cane several meters away looked to be as far away as Leth.
"I'm sorry, Jomi." she cried, hands over her face. "I'm so sorry."
Everard had pulled his head out of Jomi's weak grasp. With a motion like he was sweeping away the curtains from a window, he turned at the waist and slashed Jomi across the chest with the imbued knife. A curl of soulmist followed the blade out and disappeared in the still air. Then he pulled back and slashed him again. And again. Each time a little piece of the soul was pulled out and destroyed.
"Stop it! Everard, Stop!" Madeira was shrieking, unable to do anything to stop her cousin hurting her only ally.
There was a dull thud as Everard stuck the point of the blade into the floor. Madeira flinched. She couldn’t bring herself to see if he had pinned Jomi with the knife like a butterfly under a pin, or if he had simply lost interest in the weak spirit. Then there was no choice but to wait there, feeling her heartbeat tap fast and uneven through to the tips of her fingers, as he lazily got to his feet. A crackling could be heard from the shuddering wicker box as the cat, gone mad with the noise and chaos, tried to chew its way out.
"You think you're better than me?” Everard finally spoke, leaning in and gently cupping his hand under Madeira’s jaw. "Maddy, dear, you're not better than me. You're more obedient than I am. You come when you are called, are sicced on the things they want destroyed. That's not what they asked of their favoured, sweetheart, thats the same thing they ask of their dogs." His hand was tightening as he spoke, his fingers digging into the hinge of her jaw and levering her mouth open. ”You collect broken things and have them call you Master. Jomi, Allister, sweet little Emma... You like it, don't you? Gives you a little thrill, playing at having power? To be the diseased queen of worthless creatures?" His fingernails were biting into her cheeks. The soft parts of her mouth were comically and grotesquely contorted under the pressure, but she dared not swat his hand away. ”Being favoured takes more than being a dutiful little girl. And that's all you are. That's all you were made for; just another tool for people better than you."
He let her go. She recoiled as he reached out and patted her gently on the cheek, like an older brother might. Then as if he had lost interest in her too he stepped away, picking his way over the debris to the basket.
Madeira's leaned against the wall, unable to stay upright on her own, and coughed until her mouth was sour. She couldn't look at Jomi. She didn't want to see what he thought of his master expressed in his black eyes. The master who promised to protect him when she couldn't even protect herself.
Everad was standing there, watching them. Madeira blinked away the tears and saw her cane still lying discarded several meters away.
"My cane", she croaked, new tears glistening in her bloodshot eyes. “I need my cane."
Everard didn't answer. He crossed his arms and stood there, waiting.
Shame burned through her. It was a low, rumbling thing, like the shaking of the earth. Tears ran in rivers down her cheeks as she slid down the wall and lowered herself to the floor. And like that, on her knees, red faced and heaving with suppressed sobs, she dragged herself across the floor.
