Page 106 of City of Stone and Silence

He snorts. “You’ll lose that tone soon enough.”

I shrug. The corpses turn, as one, and shuffle out of the room, leaving the two lizards behind as guards. Prime is taking no chances. My Melos blades might be able to cut their way through the bars eventually—maybe, the ship-metal is rotting tough—but certainly not before these two monstrous jailers did something about it.

I eye them suspiciously. Prime can probably see and hear through them, just as he can speak through his walking corpses. I settle down in the corner farthest from the pair of them—thankfully not the one occupied by the bucket—and put my hand in my pocket. The bit of conduit I used in Catoria’s chambers is still there, and I let words silently form in my mind.

Silvoa? Can you hear me?

Her face appears in front of me, the faintest ghostly sketch. She nods. I wait a moment, to see if my captors react, but either they can’t see the Eddica-light or they don’t care.

You must have made it inside Prime’s stronghold, then, she says in my mind.

He tossed me in a cell.

More or less as planned. Her image glances around. This is where he kept me.

I thought it might be. I can’t imagine he has many prisoners. I hesitate for a moment. Are you … all right? Back in Catoria’s room—

It’s not as bad as it sounds, she says briskly. I ham it up a bit, honestly.

It sounded like he was tearing your fingernails out.

He can make it painful for me, Silvoa admits. But he can’t do any permanent damage. I’m already dead, after all.

And he won’t notice you talking to me?

Not in here. This is his domain; it’s where I’m supposed to be.

I nod, and settle back against the wall. There’s not much to do now but wait. I watch the dead lizard-birds for a while, but they stand absolutely still, and that quickly gets boring. No one seems inclined to bring me food and water, which is fine with me for the moment, since I’m not eager to have to put the bucket to use.

So this is where he kept you? I ask Silvoa. If you don’t mind talking about it, I mean.

I don’t mind, she says. The worst has already happened, after all.

You seem remarkably cheerful in spite of that.

Well. I’m still around to be cheerful. That’s got to be worth something, right?

I suppose. I manage a grin. Hagan isn’t nearly so talkative. I have the strong feeling that I would have liked Silvoa, if we’d met before she died. Why do you think he kept you around?

At first I thought it was just because he was a vindictive, sadistic piece of rotscum, Silvoa says. And I still think that’s true, but there’s more to it. I think he’s lonely.

Lonely? Prime? I shake my head. It’s hard to think of the mysterious master of this place as experiencing anything so human. I realize that I picture him as one of his corpses, a desiccated puppet with dead-black eyes.

He talked to you about the Eddicants, right? she says. How he thinks that only people like us, Eddica mage-bloods, have the right to be here? To exist?

A little.

Imagine if you really believed that, but you’re the only Eddicant you’ve ever met. And then, suddenly, there’s another one.

I don’t think I’d have responded by torturing her to death, I say.

He kept me here for quite a while. She shakes her ghostly head. Tried to convince me of everything he claims. I think it was the fact that I didn’t believe him that finally made him start hurting me. After I died, he couldn’t bear to let me go.

Or else he just wanted to keep torturing you, because he’s sadistic rotscum.

That too, of course.

I draw in a long breath and let it out, slowly, trying to calm the beating of my heart. I can’t get wound up yet. There’s a long way to go.