Page 40 of Vasmora

“As for the general, what makes you think you can kill someone so powerful?”

Zevander clenched his teeth. “I’ve dreamed of it for two centuries.”

Oswin quirked a brow. “Well, then. We should set out quickly. Seems you’ve waited long enough.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KAZHIMYR

“Maevyth!” From behind the bars of his cage, Kazhimyr glared at Captain Drefan who stood just outside of the iron door to Maevyth’s cell. “Maevyth!”

Those screams.

Kazhimyr screwed his eyes shut, banishing the visuals of what they could’ve done to her earlier to warrant those gut-wrenching screams. He’d seen an Orgoth storm off, followed by more screams and flashes of light when the general had left.

She’d since gone silent.

What looked to be a mimicrow flew past Kazhimyr’s cell and slipped through the door to Maevyth’s.

“I defy the gods!” A familiar voice shouted and Kazhimyr’s heart lurched at what sounded like his fellow Letalisz.

The bird. That repulsive hag had preserved the sound of Zevander’s voice. Tormenting Maevyth.

“Do you suppose he defied them up until his death?” Still standing in her doorway, Captain Drefan chuckled. Though she was silent, Maevyth must’ve been alive the way he continued to taunt her.

“I can’t breathe!” The bird bellowed again in Zevander’s voice.

Sick bastards. Kazhimyr’s hands curled to tight fists with the urge to smash the captain’s face.

“Be grateful that I’m not the one who locked you away. General Loyce is a fool to keep you alive when she could so easily feed you to her pets.”

“Did you hear that, crow?” Kazhimyr called out. “The good captain thinks the General is a fool. She may want to know that!”

“Yes.” The bird cawed. “She may want to know that!” The bird shot out of Maevyth’s cell in a black streak and as it passed Kazhimyr’s, it slammed to an abrupt halt, hovering in the air.

An invisible hand clamped around one of its wings, crumpling it, its breast caving inward, bones popping and splintering. It fell to the floor in a thud.

Crushed to death.

Drefan chuckled, standing over the creature and knelt down alongside it. He lifted a wing and the bird didn’t so much as twitch with life. “Shame. This crow was the general’s favorite.”

“Won’t she be devastated to know you killed it.”

“Sad? Maybe. Devastated? Not likely. She has a cage full of them. All Zevander’s voices. A century of torment.” He sighed, shaking his head. So close, Kazhimyr could reach out and throttle him, if he were willing to face the consequences. “Such a waste, though.” On those parting words, the captain pushed to his feet and strode off down the corridor.

The moment he fell out of sight, Kazhimyr knelt to the floor, staring back at the dead creature. From inside his cell, a small black spider scampered across the floor toward it and slipped into the bird’s mouth, the sight of it curling Kazhimyr’s lip. Protrusions poked through the feathers where it seemed to crawl inside the bird’s body.

It stilled.

The bird’s eyes shot open and it flopped on the ground, its broken wing seizing. The poor creature dragged in a circle on the floor, twitching its feet. It sprang upright, possessed by something unseen, its body filled out, wings smooth at its sides.

Kazhimyr’s eyes remained fixated, studying the fuzzy image in his mind. A reflection of himself.

Through the bird’s eyes?

He gasped and shook his head at the same time the bird did.

When it took flight, a dizziness knocked him off balance, the room blurring and widening. He screwed his eyes shut, and in the darkness of his mind, watched the corridor slip below him, as he passed over guards, up a stairwell and through opulent rooms of marble and gold. The view, so clear and crisp, he squeezed his eyes harder when an ache bloomed in his skull.