The God of Misery stares pointedly at Soren, sharp teeth glinting underneath the hood. Whether Misery is smiling or baring his fangs, I’m not certain.
Soren continues to fight his hesitation to leave, moving his attention to the door, then back to Misery, almost as if he swore he saw a ghost.
Just leave, you annoying bastard.
My shoulders heave forward with a heavy sigh as he finallyfucking leaves. Did Soren see him? Or feel him?
I wait a few moments before I can breathe again, nearly panting as I do so. “You said he can’t see you,” I mutter, staring at the empty glass I drained my rum from, wanting to remain calm.
That was the deal—Misery uses some of my energy to conceal himself from Soren; a feat he can accomplish on his own when, and only when, he’s returned to full power. In the meantime, the taxation of his energy means he requiresmineto do it.
The shadowy figure lazily turns to face me, his eyes the only visible feature among the darkness of his face. “Nor can he hear me, which explains your tiredness as of late. I have been consuming more than usual. It would be unattainable to concealsensingme, though, given our connection. I’ll admit… he has remarkable control over his powers. It’s rare to witness such a feat in an ordinary mortal,” he replies, his voice like that of a hell hound’s, if one could talk. I hate the way it wraps around the room as if his very words could grip my neck if he so desired.
I eye the glass that Soren drank out of, watching the last legs of the rum drip back down into the well of the chalice. “He doesn’t trust me, or what we’re doing with Tempest. He will see through it. He is a massive liability.”
“The Scorpion’s daughter will fix it all,” Misery croons. “Soren is quite distracted by her. It’s her first act of service to my cause, whether she realizes it or not.”
I look at the floor in front of the fallen god, unable to call him by his true name, even in my mind—Morvock. It’s as if every time I do, his power saturates the room; acknowledgement, or worship, nourishes his existence. I can’t give him any more of what I have, though. Just because I need him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t scare the shit out of me.
EvenIhave to admit that what Misery plans for Jane is barbaric.
“Does Soren know who she is? That she’s Ritter’s daughter?” I ask, anxiously rapping my knuckles on the table.
“He was… hard to read.” An otherworldly breeze chills the air, emanating Misery’s distaste.
GodsI’ll never get used to him.
If I were one of Misery’s fanatics, I might find some demented enjoyment in being so close; tofeedhim with my own energy. But all I want is what I’m promised, then to be as far away from this fucker as possible when this is all done.
Looking out one of the windows to prevent despair from leeching under my skin, I survey the ocean skies. I imagine a day when I can sail those waters asmine. “I still think the others should know about who Jane really is, rather than let Soren put on this show. They’re all catching on to the fact that I’m plotting something.”
“And ruin good bait? The Scorpion’s heart still beats, although I can’t sense his location. Soren inspires many when he’s out for blood. Miss Ritter will lead them both astray, and Tempest will meet her fates out in the Crimson Isles while destroying Basilisk… then we restore my body, and you will have nothing else to ask for in your lifetime.”
It’s like making a deal with a kraken.
Misery adds, “You may come out, now.”
It’s always a relief when another person interacts with Misery alongside me, as if affirming I’m not suffering from insanity. I scoot my chair on the wood to watch as a door to my private sitting room opens, revealing averycapable man by the name of Shade. His attire is like all the rest with leathers, buckles, weapons, and an addition of chain mail on his thighs that clink with every step.
A howler monkey with fur so black it’s like a moving abyss springs out on pattering feet, its eyes two giant orbs of molten orange to match its master’s. The animal leaps up onto Misery’s shoulder, and I have no fucking desire to learn aboutwhy, out of all the animals, he has amonkey.
The only relevant part is that it’s connected to Misery, like an extension of him. And unlike the god it’s tied to, the monkey cannot take on the power of invisibility; it’s often locked away in my chambers of this castle, or in Misery’s.
Shade, too, lowers his gaze whenever it nears the miasmic corner. “Yes, my lord?”
Misery turns his oppressive gaze to Shade. “Do you have word on locating Ritter?”
It’s so unnatural seeing someone as bold as Shade to seem almost meek; even at a young age, he feared nothing. “No, my lord. He’s elusive.”
A grating sound emanates from Misery that makes both Shade and I lower our heads even further. “So is your use to me, then, if that’s true.”
“I do believe that there’s something he’s doing that makes him hard to find,” Shade swiftly adds.
“That is painfully obvious ifIcan’t sense him,” Misery snaps. “I suppose it was wishful thinking on my end, as it’s not your true purpose. Both Soren and Jane will be residing at Rosmertta’s in the near future. I can seethat, at the very least, which is why you were chosen. Use that to your advantage as a guard there. Wherever Jane is, Ritter will be close. He always has been. I can sensethatmuch, as well.” The burning eyes shift to examine a large black ring encircling his finger, its surface glistening darkly as if forged from the depths of an abyss. “We need Soren removed, or wounded, before making an attempt. I will inform you where to be at the right time. It will be up toyouto take advantage of it.”
“Understood,” Shade replies, a hunger in there that gives me some confidence he might actually succeed. He’s always been impulsive, even as a child. Hopefully, it won’t ruin him here.
The glowing gaze flits down as Misery reaches into his robe, pulling out an antiquated bronze pocket watch on a matching chain, fluidly opening it as he stares at worn patina. I’ve seen the watch up close only twice, and it doesn’t read wherever north lies
