“Like you hurt my friend.” There wasn’t any allure in the coldness of his voice now.
My weak hands managed to tighten on the bars. “She attacked me.”
“And you killed her with an interesting weapon. Tell me about it.”
“I don’t know?—”
He drew what looked like an ice pick from beneath his jacket. “Which eye shall I take first?” He pressed the tip to Hal’s cheek.
The mage whimpered, eyes squeezing tighter.
My poor friend. My poor trembling friend. I couldn’t let him suffer because of me.
“Okay, okay,” I said, retching again. “I’ll tell you.”
Silvanus kept the ice pick on Hal.
“Well, it was weird,” I began, going on to explain what’d happened to me on the ice. By the end of it, my throat was so horse I wasn’t sure my voice box would work again.
Damn. Why tell him? Why not lie? It was these blooms. They fucked up my thinking, my capacity to function even a little bit.
But it might spare Hal.
The king nodded, lowering the ice pick. “I see. And you have no idea why this happened?”
I shook my head, bristling with fear.
Aidan, hear my prayer. Don’t let my friend die tonight.
“Now, for you, mage,” he said to Hal.
“I… I…” He opened his eyes, finally looking at me.
My heart jumped into my throat.
Hal blinked, his shoulders sagging with defeat. “What do you want me to say?”
I’d never heard him sound so weak.
Silvanus snared me in his stare. “Do you want to live, Hal?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. How much?”
Hal didn’t know how to answer.
“Come along now,” the vampire pressed. “Tell me. How much do you want to live?”
Hal’s lips trembled, his eyes closing again. “Very much.”
“Good. Now, tell this elf here what you told me earlier.”
Hal opened his eyes again, facing the king. “But?—”
Silvanus pressed the ice pick to his neck. “Or I’ll cut the words out for you.”
I snarled, trying to lift myself to my feet. “You fucking prick.”
