Page 8 of The Hollow King

“What is it?” I snapped at him once I was further away from the dining room.

“Borin feed it. Does Master want Borin to watch it?”

I considered his words. It was acting strangely.

“Yes, keep an eye on it and report back to me,” I said before I turned to leave.

“Good Borin for you, Master,” he mumbled.

Even as I walked away, I knew something was wrong.

On my route to my apothecary, I changed my mind and turned south—to the locked room. It had been years since I had stood here. I placed my hand on the thick wooden door, pressing my palm on it until my breathing became laboured.

Something terrible was behind this door.

So terrible that I never went beyond it.

I closed my eyes and remembered fragments of the night I went out with my sword and axe. It took years for the villagers to return. Not only the main village but the surrounding ones too. I never set foot inside this room again.

My claws scraped along the wood as I removed my hand. From beneath my sternum pain bloomed and I swivelled around, leaving it hidden and locked away from sight.

But it didn’t stop the tear from running down to my thick beard.

It didn’t stop the tremor in my hands.

It didn’t stop the bloodlust that reminded me of the sacrifice’s fate.

✛ ✛ ✛

“I can hear you, Borin,” I said without turning from my work.

He shuffled closer.

“The girl is strange, Master,” he whispered secretively.

I glanced away from the book.

“Oh?”

“She walked too fast around the castle,” he complained. “Then she went into kitchen to help cook.”

“In her chains?”

“Yes, Master,” he nodded before running a hand over his head. “She patted my head. Borin liked it?”

Why was she touching Borin and why did he like it?

“Hm. Mayhap, I will dine with her this eve.”

Yes, that would remind her not to take liberties in my castle.

Borin’s one visible eye widened.

“Oh yes, Master. Then you drain her?”

“Not yet,” I said, glancing at the clock. “Let her eat and I might have a taste.”

He backed away into the shadows.