A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(94)

The invisible force gripping me could not be budged. R’hlem raised his hands and shouted in some, unknown guttural language. But I recognized one word: Korozoth.

A shadow swelled by R’hlem’s feet. Slowly, a body rose up from that shapeless pool, darkness flowing like drapery from his shoulders.

I recognized the flash of pale yellow hair, the gentle profile that had hardened and grown bestial. Fangs jutted over the soft lower lip. Fingers were tipped with elongated talons. Rook knelt before R’hlem’s feet and bowed his head.

“Such an obedient servant.” R’hlem stroked Rook’s hair.

All the kindness and strength in Rook’s face had been snuffed out, his body made vacant to allow a monster to crawl inside. R’hlem eased the tension in my jaw so I could speak.

“How could you?” I shrieked. The pain tightened in my wrists as R’hlem turned Rook to face me. The shadow cloak whispered about his body, fluttering open around his chest. A slice of white skin and the inflamed scars that decorated it were on display.

“You can have him, my love. I would not mind.”

R’hlem ceased binding me, then sent his “servant” to help me to my feet. Rook put an arm about my waist to steady me, but there was no familiarity in his touch. To him, I was a stranger.

“I want us all to be a family,” R’hlem soothed.

I ignited in Rook’s arms. He flew backward, baring his fangs. R’hlem sent me to my knees once more in a flash of pain.

“So be it. I’ll have to take you like a common prisoner of war.” His voice was mournful as Rook advanced to gather me up. This was how it would end. I’d been a fool to think I could defeat him.

“William!” The voice echoed in the space. R’hlem whipped about, shocked at hearing his old name.

Mickelmas entered the room, kicking aside bits of glass. He stopped twenty feet from us, hands behind his back.

I tried to scream—Get out, run away!—but my jaw ached. I struggled so hard to open my damned mouth that I nearly passed out.

“You?” R’hlem sounded dumbstruck. The muscles in my body loosened.

“She’s your own flesh and blood.” Sweat glistened on Mickelmas’s face. He was doing his best to mask his terror.

“You lecture me?” R’hlem’s awed whisper began to develop into a powerful roar. “You sent me to hell.” He burst into flame, bright blue fire churning into the air, reflected upon the thousands of pieces of obsidian—it looked as if we were all in hell now. Mickelmas flinched.

With a furious cry, R’hlem shot a fireball at the magician, who dodged it. With a wave of his hand and some shouted words, Mickelmas made all the shards of black glass surge into the air. They formed sharp-winged, dagger-beaked little birds that circled and pecked at R’hlem. While the Skinless Man fought, Mickelmas vanished and reappeared by my side.

But then, with a scream of pain, his whole body went rigid. R’hlem had taken control of him as well. Instantly, the birds crashed to the floor, and R’hlem stormed over and ripped the multicolored coat from Mickelmas’s shoulders. As we watched in horror, R’hlem set the garment ablaze and tossed it to the floor. It burned quickly, reduced to a pile of ashes.

“Let’s see you hop about now.” R’hlem seized Mickelmas by the throat.

To my horror, Mickelmas began to cry. “Punish me, but leave the girl alone. She’s innocent.”

“Of course she is. In time, when she’s by my side and sees all of England spread out at her feet, she will appreciate all I’ve done,” R’hlem rasped. He slammed the older magician to the floor and leaned over him, blood dripping from his face and onto Mickelmas’s cheek. “You know what they did to me.”

“I can see,” Mickelmas gasped.

“Not my beauties, no. The sorcerers. You saw what they did to my brother. To Helen. You kept my girl away from me.” His voice shook with terrible feeling. “The last human piece of me; the final scrap of her mother. You turned that into one of them!” He roared that last word in Mickelmas’s face. “After everything they’ve done to our race, you bow like the servant you are.” There was nothing of the calm bloody king left in R’hlem. Over a decade of misery and blame flooded out of him. “I hate you.”

I’d said the same words in the same way to the same magician. Mickelmas was sobbing now, tears streaming into his gray beard.

My body screamed as I sat up, the pain finally ebbing. R’hlem was so fixated on Mickelmas he’d taken his attention off me. I knew now, beyond any doubt, I could not win against him. I wasn’t strong enough.

There was no way.

“I flayed Charles Blackwood from the top of his scalp to the bottom of his feet.” R’hlem bared his teeth in Mickelmas’s face. “What can I do to you?”

R’hlem made a fist, and Mickelmas howled as the flesh of his left hand began to twitch. With excruciating slowness, the skin tore apart with a dreadful rip. Blood ran down his arm. Mickelmas wailed and pounded his other fist into the floor, but he could do nothing. R’hlem was skinning him alive before my eyes.

“No, please!” I wept, crawling forward. “Please, Father!”

R’hlem paused. Slowly, he brought his arm down. Mickelmas keened, clutching his torn hand to his chest.

Wonderingly, R’hlem said, “Say that again.”