Clearly, your mother lied to you.
You don’t cry. You still believe this is some kind of mistake.
The witches drive away, and it is the very last time you see any of your family again.
Twenty years had passed, but Markus looked the same. So did Berti.
Rage burned away the last traces of fear, burned away caution and restraint. With a wordless cry, Cathrynne sprang to her feet. She crossed the room in three long strides. Berti’s eyes widened as Cathrynne slammed into her, driving them both to the floor. She managed to land a flurry of punches before Ash and Kane came running in to drag her off.
It was the first thing you learned in cypher training. When you’re fighting for your life, attack in a blitz. Keep the blows raining down faster than your opponent can react to them.
Berti was cursing a blue streak. Blood gushed from her nose. Cathrynne managed to break loose again and get a couple more kicks in. Then someone cast a projective spell, knocking her back.
“Close the fucking door!” Kane shouted.
The four of them bolted and the heavy door slammed shut. Cathrynne stood there for a minute, breathing hard. Then she started to laugh and cry at the same time.
Again, they left her without food or water.
Well worth it, she thought, flexing her bruised knuckles.
When Markus returned, he looked unhappy. “You’re being very difficult, Cathrynne.”
He was impeccably dressed as always. A real dandy in pinstriped trousers and a red silk waistcoat.
“I know who you are,” she said. “I remember everything. You took me from my family. Humiliated my mother!”
“I was doing my job,” he replied. “Hysto shouldn’t have fucked an angel.”
“You’re a monster.”
Markus sighed. “Be reasonable. How long can you continue like this? Just give me the sweven and it will all be over. You can go home to Kirith and resume your duties without interference from the White Foxes ever again. I’ll see to it. And you’ll be doing a service to the empire.” He gazed at her earnestly.
Cathrynne took a step forward. Markus braced himself but held his ground.
“I’ll say this one more time,” she spat. “You’re never getting inside my mind. Never.”
“So be it,” a cold voice said.
Cathrynne turned as an older witch strode into the room. She wore weirdly heavy makeup and burn scars coursed across the left half of her body. The biggest caracal Cathrynne had ever seen prowled at her side.
“I have no patience for this,” the witch snapped.
“Who are you?” Cathrynne asked.
“Veronica Viktorovich,” she replied with disdain. “I have known your family a long time.”
“Mother—” Markus began.
She cut him off with a sharp gesture. “I’m hardly surprised Hysto sired a half-blood bastard,” Veronica said. “Nor that you are an ill-mannered, common creature.”
The caracal bared its fangs in a hiss.
“My son is gracious,” Veronica said, stroking the caracal’s head with one scarred hand. “But I am not.”
She snapped her fingers. Ash and Kane came trotting in like the obedient dogs they were. “Take her below,” Veronica ordered.
Markus gave Cathrynne a look that was half pity, half reproach. I tried my best. What happens next is your fault.
