Chapter Three

Raimie

Rhylix looked ready to leave.

With his hand on my shoulder, he said, “I’ll bring you a report of what I discover in the morning.”

But I didn’t know if I should let him go. Despite what he might think, I knew what he meant to do tonight. Nessaira wouldn’t willingly explain the inner workings of her master’s kingdom to him. He’d have to force it from her.

Which would mean torture. I didn’t know if that was how Rhylix phrased it to himself, but that was what it would be: making another person suffer until her will broke.

I didn’t know if I could let that happen, let alone approve of my friend taking the task on.

We need that inside information, heart of my heart. In our current venture, timing is everything. You know that, Nylion said. And you certainly cannot and should not do this thing. After closing a tear and killing so many Kiraak, you are worn thin. I can tell. Please, do not stress yourself more than you must, especially when someone has volunteered to help you. If anyone can assume such a horrible responsibility with little harm done to him, it is Rhylix.

Much as I hated to admit it, Nylion was right. I considered what he’d said, especially his review of our evening, and my heart…

Gods, something awful was stirring there. I’d felt it since encountering Nessaira at Da’kul’s gate, and with every passing hour, it had gotten stronger. I didn’t want my friend to be here when it broke through the glass separating it from me.

So, I said, “Ok. Thanks, Rhy.”

And he squeezed me.

“No problem. I’ll see you later.”

I watched him disappear down the stairs with a heavy heart. Gods, what had I done? What had I asked of my friend?

What was needed, Nylion whispered.

But I barely heard him. Hunching on myself, I hugged my elbows and slowly breathed out, fighting to stay numb. Whatever this was, this internal battle raging beneath the surface, I couldn’t indulge in it.

I needed to get some sleep while I could because soon, Gistrick would arrive with his Zrelnach, set to accept control of this fort. When he arrived, I needed to be ready for him. Da’kul must be secured and an initial survey of its supplies completed. I needed to make sure all of this happened smoothly.

But everything that I was struggling to ignore refused to be denied. I was frozen in place, continually shoving an understanding of what I was rejecting away, but it kept creeping back into my awareness. It wouldn’t leave me alone.

So, eventually, I stopped struggling against it. I let it come, and it rushed to the forefront.

The next thing I knew, I was huddled against the mantle with my back to the crease it made with the wall. With my arms thrown over my head, I was rocking in place and…

What was going on? Why- why was I…?

Everything was fine. I felt nothing, so why…?

But the more I considered these questions or tried to stop what was happening, the further away it all felt. From a distant place, I watched my body shake, but I couldn’t focus on it.

The only thing that held my attention was the sound of a woman screaming outside. She was roaring such unkind things at an unfortunate being, although I wasn’t sure how I knew that. I couldn’t make out her words, just her caustic voice as it boomed around me, and I wanted it to-

“Stop! Please, stop. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be bad. Please… please, stop. I- I’m sorry. Sorry. Pleeease…”

Was that… my voice? Gods, why did I sound so young? Why…? What…?

I couldn’t… think. Just… gibbering… in my-

“RAIMIE!” Nylion shouted.

From my far away perch, I watched him flickering in the air, kneeling in front of me with the most pained expression on his bruised face, and when he noticed me looking at him, he slumped, if only slightly.

Lightly, he touched my rocking form.

“It is ok,” he said. “Remember where we are. This is Da’kul, in Auden. We are far away from home and far off of the ground. Nothing bad can get us up here. We are alone, right? No one can hurt us…”

He kept repeating those reassurances, and with each one, I slid further into my body until I was slotted back into place. I saw the room at the top of the tower around me. I heard the crackle of flames in the fireplace. I felt the rough stone at my back and my still-moving lips, even as I clamped them together.

And I was so tired.

Drooping, I barely stopped myself from faceplanting.

“What-?”

Wincing, I licked my dry lips.

“What was that?”

I… am not sure.

Nylion had disappeared, which… had I just physically seen him? Gods. I was hallucinating on top of everything else.

“I’m losing my mind,” I said. “Or maybe that happened a while ago.”

After all, I’d been talking to an imaginary person in my head for as long as I could remember.

No. That wasn’t fair. Nylion was very real.

“Are you ok?” I whispered.

Maybe if I was quiet, it would negate how loud I’d been a moment ago.

I am fine, Nylion said. You should lie down before you collapse, heart of my heart.

Oh, fuck. I was about to fall over.

Gingerly, I curled up on the floor, enjoying the warmth of its typical stone.

It does feel good, does it not? Nylion said. Close your eyes, Raimie. I will keep watch for now. We are safe.

“But!”

What had happened…

Close your eyes.

Grumbling under my breath, I did as I’d been told, and as if waiting for that moment, sleep dragged me under.

I was at the bottom of a well again. Struggling to swim again. Cursing my broken arm again.

But this time, I was holding Nylion above the water’s surface… or I thought it was him. He was lighter than I’d expected. Smaller. More… delicate.

Regardless, I couldn’t focus on getting us out of the well, not with him screaming in my ear.

“It’s not right! It’s not right! It’s not-!”

Something thumped to the ground nearby, and snarling, I leapt to my feet, pulling Daevetch to my hands. Where was the threat? I’d eliminate it, keep us safe. So, where-?

At the head of the stairs, Oswin had frozen in the middle of climbing the last of them, and with a jolt running through me, I snapped my hands down.

As heat rose in my cheeks, I said, “Oswin. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you. I fell asleep…”

Waving at the floor, I trailed off, realizing how silly sleeping there instead of the room’s perfectly good bed must make me look, but Oswin didn’t say a word about it.

Climbing the rest of the way into the room, he said, “Well, I certainly didn’t mean to disturb your rest, sir. You’ll have to forgive me for the noise. I’m a bit tired myself, but then, that’s what happens when you spend hours searching for the charge you’re supposed to be guarding.”

Right. I’d forgotten how irritated he’d been with me for insisting on infiltrating Da’kul with only Rhylix at my side.

“You’ve found me now,” I said, shrugging with an awkward smile. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Striding to me, Oswin looked down at where I’d been lying.

“If I may, sir, why were you on the ground?

“I-”

Shit. How should I answer that? I wouldn’t tell him how I’d ended up there. Not only was I unclear about what had happened, but I knew how absolutely insane it would seem to him.

“I got cold,” I said. “Moved closer to the fire and fell asleep.”

“Huh,” Oswin said before nodding. “Makes sense.”

Thank the gods. He’d accepted that bullshit excuse.

As if nothing strange had happened, Oswin clasped his hands behind his back, launching straight into business.

“If you have the time, I’d like to introduce you to a few people,” he said. “You’ve actually met them once before, but that meeting was brief, and they’ve been busy with work in the months since. This is the first time they’ve been gathered in one place since the battle on the beach.”

Was I capable of meeting new people right now? I was still rattled and if possible, even more exhausted than I’d been before falling asleep.

I didn’t have a viable excuse for getting out of this, though, not when these introductions would likely be quick.

“I have the time,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Bring them on.”

Grinning, Oswin glanced over his shoulder.

“You heard the man,” he called.

With that prompting, four people joined us at the tower’s top, and Oswin was right. I did know them, if only nominally.

As they entered, each of them quickly scanned the room, but while the woman and the… small man or perhaps teenager squealed on seeing the bed, running to jump on it, the tallest of them stalked to a window, looking out of it, and the burly one headed for the desk. While he started rifling through the pages on it, I did my best not to gawk.

Clearing my throat, I said, “So, you’re finally getting around to introducing your friends?’

Because the last time I’d seen these four people, I’d never learned their names, preoccupied as I’d been at the time. I’d been worried about how they’d react to the revelation of my primeancy.

“Oh, give him a break, most kingly one,” said the small man on the bed. “We’ve been busy setting up your spy network since then.”

Bristling, Oswin said, “Little! Mind yourself. No matter how much you like to forget it, respect is part of your job.”

While the small man made a face, mouthing silent words behind Oswin’s back, the older man turned to me.

“And yes. Introductions are in order,” he said. “The mouthy brat goes by Little, as you may have noticed. He’s our expert in infiltration, wriggling into any and all sorts of problem areas that we might encounter.”

Smirking, Little tossed his hand in a wave, and at that, I fought to keep my lips flat. I liked him already.

“Beside him is Ring,” Oswin continued. “She excels at persuasion, dropping the right words into the right ears at the right time.”

The pretty red-head at Little’s side flowed off of the bed, flourishing a bow once she was on her feet.

“A pleasure to meet you formally, sir,” she said.

When she sprang upright to hop on the bed, I snorted to suppress a laugh. I knew this woman could ooze desire at me if she’d wanted to. It was found in her bearing and confidence, and I was so grateful that she hadn’t. I wasn’t sure how she’d known the best way to act around me, but that didn’t matter. With a single greeting, she’d made interacting with her ten times easier.

“Likewise,” I said.

Turning to the other two men, Oswin gestured at the burly one.

“That’s Thumb,” he said. “He’s our brawler and code breaker. Pretty decent with picking locks too.”

Never looking away from what he was reading, Thumb mumbled something unintelligible, which was… interesting.

“Seems intense,” I said.

“Mm,” Oswin helpfully replied. “In the corner, we have Pointer. He specializes in the less savory parts of our work, but that’s all I can share for now. Out of all of us, he’s the most private.”

Still at the window, Pointer absently said, “I heard that.”

His voice made me shiver. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with it, but it had sounded ruined, in a way. When Oswin merely laughed at what he’d said, however, I was forced to join him.

“And last but not least is me,” he said with a deep bow. “I fill the position of spymaster and Middle, which is the only name you should have known me by. Unfortunately, our circumstances didn’t allow me to maintain my anonymity.”

While he straightened, I cocked my head.

“Middle…” I said. “I know that you were once the Middle of Queen Kaedesa’s Hand, which means you were perfectly capable of maintaining your anonymity, if it’s what you really wanted.”

Behind Oswin, Pointer snorted, curling on himself.

“He’s got you there,” he rasped.

Oswin merely rolled his eyes, so I continued.

“But what are you the Middle of now? Unless…”

Glancing over the five strangers around me, I frowned.

“Unless these people are supposed to be a Hand?” I said. “That would make sense, what with the names.”

With a tongue click, Oswin shook his head, lifting his eyes to the sky.

“Yes, sir. We’re a Hand,” he said. “Yours, in fact.”

“But… why would I need a Hand?”

The words were out of my mouth before I could consider them, and on hearing them, I winced.

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“Please, don’t say a word. I know how silly that question was,” I said.

“Well. I’m glad someone pointed that out,” Little said.

From beside him, Ring sat up so she could smack him upside the head.

“Respect, Little,” she hissed.

Chuckling, I said, “I don’t mind. It was a silly question.”

If an understandable one as well. I’d only accepted this new position a few months ago, and transitioning one’s viewpoint from that of a peasant to a leader of men would take anyone a while.

“So… what exactly does a Hand do?” I asked. “I know you’re spies and usually the cream of the crop at that, but what does spying usually involve?”

With a giggle, Ring bounced to the bed’s edge.

“Lots of things!” she said. “For now, we’ll probably scout for you, supporting the greater spy network that we’ve established, but when we served Queen Kaedesa, we kept tabs on Ada’ir’s criminal element, eliminated subversives before they could become dangerous, and occasionally, countered members of other kingdoms’ Hands, among other things. For the most part, though, you won’t have to think about the dark matters we handle. That’s not the king’s job.”

She’d given me a lot of useful information. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fully process it as I was stuck on one particular portion.

“Served Queen Kaedesa?” I repeated with a raised eyebrow.

Had anyone else heard panic in my voice there? Gods, please say they hadn’t.

Nodding, Oswin said, “Certainly. Before leaving Ada’ir, the five of us were Queen Kaedesa’s Hand. Now, we’re yours.”

For a moment, all I could do was blink at him and the others, and when I found my voice, I had to take a moment to clear it.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” I said, “but… just… what? That’s… oh, hell.”

Clutching my head, I sank into a chair.

“So, you’re telling me that not only have I stolen a large part of a neighboring kingdom’s army, along with its commander, but also its queen’s Hand?” I said. “How? And Alouin above… she’s going to kill me. For an insult like this, that utterly terrifying woman would definitely cross the Narrow Sea, just to murder my ass.”

…Which would absolutely help with this ridiculous quest of freeing Auden.

Please, heart of my heart. Do not panic, Nylion said. From what I have seen of her-

“Yeah… no. Kaedesa won’t do that,” Little drawled.

Groaning, he propped himself up on his elbows.

“She’s far too paranoid and prepared for the loss of something like her Hand to affect her. In fact, I’d be shocked if she hasn’t already replaced us,” he said. “Plus, she likes you, for some incomprehensible reason. You amuse her, which… lucky you. You’ll have to severely fuck up in a direct and personal manner to get on her bad side.”

“Accurate,” Pointer said by the window.

The other three grunted or nodded their agreement, which made me relax, if only slightly. If anyone could know Queen Kaedesa’s mind, it would be people who’d served as her top spies.

That still left me with a question, though.

“All right, then. Say you’re right. Why should I trust you?” I said. “You’ve already switched your loyalty once. Who says you wouldn’t do it again?”

Stiffening, Oswin said, “I told you, sir. I’ve only ever been loyal to you, not Ada’ir’s queen. In my youth, I found myself in a position that might be beneficial to you, so as the spymaster of Kaedesa’s Hand, I began recruiting for you, replacing its old members with people loyal to you, all starting about nine years ago. Technically, no one here has betrayed a former employer because we’ve only ever been yours.”

…But why had they, particularly Oswin, been loyal to me? Until recently, I’d lived a quiet life, never making waves.

So, had Oswin simply been loyal to the idea of Auden’s royal family, not me specifically? If he was a descendant of an Audish refugee, that would make sense.

And he’d given me no reason to suspect him of treachery. If anything, he’d been a huge help, and besides that, I liked the man, which was rare for me. I could trust him.

Right?

“I can accept that,” I said, “and I’m glad to have met all of you in a full capacity. Truly.”

With a warm smile, Ring said, “We’re glad for you to know us, sir.”

“Maybe some of us are,” Little said, rolling his eyes. “Can we get back to work now, Middle? Dragging that Overseer to the tower was enough of a delay, so sure, he may have had time to meet us, but I didn’t.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, Oswin sighed.

“Yes, Little. You may return to work,” he said.

“Awesome.”

With a grin, Little bounced off of the bed, and the other three were quick to follow, although unlike their youngest member, they offered some form of respect before doing so. Only once Oswin and I were alone again did I fully slump into my chair, exhausted beyond measure.

“Well. They’re interesting,” I said to no one.

“I’m glad they’ve pleased you,” Oswin said, “and I’ll ensure they swear their loyalty to you soon, much as you might hate that. In the meantime, can I help you in any way, sir? You seem a bit… overwhelmed.”

Gods, he’d hit the nail on the head with that observation, so much so that I had to look away.

Rapidly blinking, I said, “I’m fine. Just struggling with what to do next.”

Because there was so much to do, and I was so very new to this leading a resistance thing. Sure, we’d taken an additional base of operations and a defensible one at that, but what should I do with it? I’d been hoping to use the intelligence found here to plan our next steps, but considering how heavily encoded everything seemed to be, that hope had been unfulfilled.

Even still, having a backup base would be nice. Who knew if or when my people’s current refuge, Tiro, might become hostile to us once more? For the last two months, Tanwadur had daily threatened to throw us out of his city, and I wasn’t sure when that threat might become a reality.

So, it was good that we had a potential new home. From here, we could begin our true work. We could slowly free Auden’s many cities, defending them once they were ours, until such time as we could contest the capital.

But where to start? Over the winter, that had been the major question for me, and while I had a spy network, it was new and fragile enough that reports had been slow in the making.

Perhaps the Hand could pick up the slack while the rest of the network was getting more established. With their experience, it shouldn’t take them as long to get into the swing of things, compared to a slew of new spies at least.

And hopefully, Rhylix will soon bring us the information he has coerced from Nessaira, Nylion said.

Right. How had I forgotten about that?

I should check in with him before some new task came along to distract me.

Blinking, I refocused on my surroundings and smiled on seeing Oswin, patiently waiting.

“Let’s see how Rhy’s interrogation is going, shall we?” I said.

Turning toward the stairs, I almost missed Oswin’s subtle grimace, but it had been there in time for me to see it.

I wasn’t sure why the spy didn’t like my friend, although it couldn’t be because Rhylix was Eselan or a primeancer. Oswin had already established that he wasn’t constrained by society’s typical hatred of primeancers, and when around the Zrelnach, he was nothing but polite and respectful. Given that, it seemed safe to say that he didn’t hold some strange prejudice against Rhylix.

But something about my friend still rankled him. That much was clear, and it bothered me that I didn’t know why that was.

I spent most of the walk down the tower considering this question, halfway tempted to just ask the spy. In the end, though, doing that didn’t seem wise. I needed to stay on Oswin’s good side, and while I doubted mentioning this issue would cause a problem between us, I’d rather avoid difficult conversations with him, at least until his side of this resistance was more stable.

Eventually, we found the tower’s cell block, and spying Rhylix up ahead, I motioned for Oswin to stay back. For once, he didn’t protest this, probably because he had clear lines of sight down the hallway.

I meandered toward my friend, but once I’d gotten closer, I frowned, hastening my pace. Rocking in place, Rhylix was huddled on himself, and I could barely make out what he was saying.

“-hate it! Can’t do this anymore. Why do I keep having to be the bad guy?”

Shit. I’d known having him do the interrogation was a bad idea.

I slowed down, speaking as softly as I could.

“Rhy? Are you ok?”

For a breath, Rhylix tensed into a stiff statue, but then, he lurched to his feet, jerking his head across the hallway, and I froze. Fortunately, the panic I’d spotted in him was quickly buried, and he cleared his throat.

“I…” he said, rapidly blinking. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He is lying, both to us and himself, Nylion said.

I know, I replied.

But I didn’t know what to do about it. Calling him out didn’t seem like a good idea, but neither did leaving him here. Clearly, he couldn’t finish this interrogation right now.

“Having trouble with Nessaira?” I said. “Why did you volunteer to handle her if it was going to be such a problem?”

As Rhylix winced, Nylion said, Heart of my heart, please say you are not considering what I think you are.

I couldn’t answer him honestly, so I held my tongue.

“What can I say?” Rhylix said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

Clearly.

“I see,” I said.

Do you, really? Nylion said. Please. We cannot take this task on for him. I know you want to, but… please, Raimie. It would not be wise. Let us wait-

Can we afford to do that? I said. As you’ve said multiple times, we need this information, and we need it now. Besides, if Rhy can’t do this, who else would we ask? I was already uncomfortable enough with giving him this task. I couldn’t do it to another person.

Raimie, I am begging you-

“Why don’t I give it a try?” I said over Nylion.

I couldn’t let him continue with that thought. If he did, I’d be stuck here for who knew how long, trying to reconcile his feelings with what must be done.

“I probably won’t get anywhere, but it couldn’t hurt, right?” I made myself say.

And ignored the panic that Nylion was spilling forth.

Rhylix seemed almost as repulsed by this idea as my other half.

“I don’t know…” he said.

Gods, why were these two being so resistant with this? Couldn’t they see it was the only way?

“Come on, Rhy. It needs doing, yes?” I said, half to him and half to Nylion.

But- my other half started.

“Well… yes,” Rhylix said, interrupting him. “We need to know what she knows, but-”

Oh. my. fucking. gods.

“Then, let me try,” I said.

Pushing past Rhylix, I forced myself to smile at him.

“I promise I won’t do something I’ll regret.”

Or I hoped I wouldn’t.

After all, I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that nothing pleasant was waiting for me in Nessaira’s cell, but I was hoping its necessity would erase my guilt over it.

That is naïve, Nylion whispered.

But he’d sounded so resigned.

You are my everything, Raimie, but sometimes, you are too optimistic for our own good.

I couldn’t identify what had pulsed from him with those words, but it made me pause in the cell’s threshold, not really seeing what it contained. Something took hold of my body, and almost without my consent, it twitched backward enough for me to poke my head back into the hallway.

Seeking out Rhylix, I said, “Stay there, would you? If I need help…”

Ha. Given how I’d found him, how could Rhylix help me with this?

But he smiled and said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And I relaxed.

“Thanks!” I said.

Now, it was time to do something I’d rather never try my hand at.

When I turned back into the room, though, I stopped short, nailed in place by what I saw. Nessaira was slouched in a chair, tied to it by the arms and legs. Her fingers had obviously been broken, dangling as they were from her hands at odd angles, and- and some of her fingernails were gone. Her hair was disheveled and grimy and her face… gods.

And yet, when she saw I’d placed my attention on her, she grinned, displaying her bloodied teeth and all.

“Aww… has the cute Eselan whelp sent his lapdog to finish the job?” she said. “Here’s hoping you can do a better job than him.”

What… what had Rhylix done? Hell. What would I have to do?

My hands were shaking as I moved into the room, and when I reached the table beside Nessaira with a host of tools on top of it, I flexed my fingers before slowly playing them over sharp edges and pinchers and…

Oh, gods.

I couldn’t do this.

But I had to. Rhylix certainly couldn’t, and we needed… something from this. Right? Nessaira knew something we needed.

Where was this fog in my head coming from?

Snorting, Nessaira said, “You’ll be as much of a disappointment as him, won’t you?”

Ok. I needed to slow down. I needed to- to think.

Gods… her face… so many bruises.

I looked at that, and suddenly, I felt like I was gasping for air, much as I wasn’t doing that. Why did her face…?

Nylion. He looked like her.

Didn’t he?

“Oh, fuck. Nyl… where are you?” I thought I said.

Gods, why was I having such a hard time with something as simple as thinking? That should be instinctive, right? I shouldn’t be fighting off a need to run and a head full of fog and her face-

Heart of my heart, you cannot do this, came a whisper through my mind. I know it is hard, but you need to let go now. Just… let go. Let me out, like we have done before, and I will keep you safe.

I didn’t know what was going on, but right now, I was too muddled to figure it out.

So, I did as the voice had said. I released control of the one thing I desperately clung to and faded into the background.

Slowly. Gradually. Gone.

----------------------------------------

Rapidly blinking, Nylion took a deep breath, and despite what a bad idea it was, he roughly shook his head. Doing that might indicate distress to this torture session’s victim, but he needed it if he was to clear out this all-consuming fog. If he didn’t, Raimie’s influence might stick around for far too long.

This was what happened every time they unintentionally switched places or rather, every time Raimie unwillingly lost control. Every time something unpleasant drew Nylion to the surface.

But he’d known this would happen as soon as Raimie had gotten this ridiculous idea in his thick head. Gods, much as Nylion would do anything for his other half, sometimes his stubbornness frustrated him.

“Problem?” said the victim with a laugh in her voice. “You know… I get it if you can’t hurt me. Not many people are strong enough-”

Huffing, Nylion backhanded her.

“Do shut up,” he said. “I am trying to think.”

It had been a while since he’d had to do something like this, and while his lessons on torture remained fresh in his mind, even after being abandoned for so long, he still needed a moment to choose which of them to use. There were so many options and he wasn’t sure which would work best.

It didn’t help that Nylion was still quite disoriented from everything that had happened earlier.

When Raimie had closed the tear here… gods, it had hurt just as much as the last time, and he still hadn’t figured out why that was or why the dissonance it had caused had yet to fade.

Add to that Raimie’s near breakdown in the tower’s top, and one had an overworked half of a whole. It had been ages since something had so strongly tested the walls between Raimie and Nylion, years since he’d had to battle his own distress while also calming the heart of his heart down. Years since their collective truth had nearly risen above the many lies told to hide it, both by themselves and others.

Somehow, he’d won against this bout, beating memories back below the surface, but it had been a close call. Given the direction Raimie’s life was currently taking them, Nylion knew he’d have to make several repeat performances of this in the coming days, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep it up for long enough.

Yes, he wanted Raimie to partially breach the walls between them, enough to learn some of their truths, but that shouldn’t happen until he was good and ready, which he wasn’t now. Even beyond that, there were some truths that Nylion never intended to share with his other half.

Those things should always remain buried.

None of this could help Nylion with his current purpose, though, so he shook his head again, pushing it all to the side. With difficulty, he focused on the real world.

Nessaira had kept to silence, thankfully, but she was starting to look restless and bored again. So, Nylion took a knife from a nearby table, twirling it between his fingers, and considered where to begin.

Thank the gods that this victim was a woman. Nylion didn’t have anything against such people. He knew, logically, that some of them must be good and kind, but his personal experience with them had been anything but that. This experience made it easier to rest his knife’s edge against his victim’s skin and lay open a first cut.

She had an unusual reaction to this, fluttering her eyes closed with a sigh, but Nylion wasn’t concerned by that. He was too occupied by what he should ask her to care.

Raimie and Rhylix would probably want him to ask logistical questions, like which Enforcers were currently running Auden and where enemy troops had been quartered, but Nylion thought other topics were of greater concern to their war effort. Topics that the other two might never have considered, fully wrapped in Ele as they were.

So, he said, “Tell me how the Kiraak are made.”

Those beings had fascinated Nylion since Raimie had first laid eyes on one. While his other half had fought them during the beach battle, he’d marveled at how little those blank-vined people had paid attention to the wounds they acquired. It had been like they could fully ignore pain, and that, Nylion was interested in. He assumed it had something to do with the Daevetch that ran rampant in their bodies, and if so, perhaps he and Raimie could take the Kiraak’s near-invincibility for themselves.

Burbling laughter interrupted Nylion’s thoughts, and he fought to keep from scowling as his victim got control of herself. At the moment, only a blank face would do.

Still hiccupping on giggles, Nessaira said, “Is that all you’ve got, little one? If you want me to risk betraying my Dark Lord, especially about something sensitive like that, you’ll have to make it worth my while.”

She hungrily leered at Nylion, and he shuddered despite himself. Gods, he hated expressions like that.

How was he going to break this woman? If she’d had such an atypical response to a relatively tame torture technique, then she’d probably put up greater resistance than most. So, how…?

Nylion knew of only one other person who might claim such stubbornness, one man who might show as much indifference to pain, and in the past, only one thing had easily surmounted the heart of his heart’s defenses against it.

Sighing, Nylion rubbed his forehead, releasing his typically enforced ignorance of the constant shadow at his side.

“All right, Chaos,” he said. “You know what I want. How do I do it?”

Wincing, Chaos said, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Raimie wouldn’t approve.”

Which was exactly the point.

“At the moment, what Raimie would or would not want does not matter,” Nylion said. “He is not here right now. I am, and it is my duty to handle all of the dark things that he should never have to conceive of. So, tell me what I need to know, Chaos, or so help me, I may end up doing something much worse than what I already have planned.”

He truly hoped Chaos would go along with the plan for once. That other thing he’d threatened? It would require quite a lot of Daevetch use, and with how much of it Raimie had been using lately, Nylion wasn’t sure how much more this body and brain could take without experiencing adverse side effects.

Squeezing their eyes closed, Chaos said, “Direct my whole into the cut on your victim’s cheek. Then, send it through her body to the squishy mass at the base of her skull.”

Nylion obliged, ignoring his victim’s confused protestations, before raising an eyebrow at Chaos.

“Activate the pain node that you’ll find there,” the splinter said. “It’s that simple.”

So it was.

For as long as he could stand it, Nylion listened to his victim scream before releasing his hold on her. Once he had, Nessaira slumped in her bonds, panting, but when she lifted her eyes to him, they were shining.

“A Vice?” she purred. “Not only a rogue Daevetch primeancer, but one who can employ that delightful torture. Oh, how I’ve missed-”

With his stomach twisting into a knot, Nylion used his Vice on the victim to shut her up. Hell, the tone of her voice. It had made him want to throw up.

“Tell me what I want to know,” he snapped.

When he released her, his victim licked her lips.

“Certainly,” she said. “Keep hurting me like that, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Just!”

Pinching his nose, Nylion rubbed one of his temples.

“Just tell me about the Kiraak for now,” he said.

“Well, for starters, that process begins in the Birthing Grounds. This is where, as the name implies, the Kiraak are born,” Nessaira said. “My Dark Lord attaches Corruption, his flavor of Daevetch, to key points in each prisoner from a Harvested population, after which he gives them to his Enforcers. Those lieutenants add the last attachment point, the one that will bind their assigned Kiraak to them. Their ultimate loyalty lies with Doldimar himself, of course. He trusts no one-”

“Hang on,” Nylion interrupted, lifting a hand. “Are you saying that Doldimar’s entire, near-undefeatable army is made up of people controlled by Daevetch alone?”

With a frown, Nessaira said, “It’s Corruption, actually, but besides that… yes.”

She shrugged, and for a moment, Nylion could only stare at her.

Had- had Doldimar never considered that a Daevetch primeancer, free of his influence, might challenge him for his power?

“Huh,” he said. “Maybe our enemy is not as smart as we thought.”

Bristling, Nessaira made to speak, but Nylion was too caught on an idea to listen.

Forcing her mouth closed, he said, “If Kiraak are made from Corruption, then what would happen if I removed it?”

Blood drained from Nessaira’s face at the rate of Nylion’s lifted hand. He reached for every trace of Daevetch in her body and with a thought, called it to him.

This, of course, removed the Vice he’d placed on her as well, so as a tangled web of dark energy converged on Nylion from her cut, he was forced to listen to her desperate shrieks, consumed with singular conviction.

He’d caused this pain. Only him.

As the last of Daevetch’s traces flowed out of Nessaira, she limply slumped in her chair, nearly knocking it over, and biting his lip, Nylion reached to check her pulse, hoping she was still alive. He didn’t need another death on his conscience.

Before he could touch her, however, a commotion of scuffling shoes and slapping footsteps jerked him toward the doorway. Almost, he sprinted through it, ready to throw a Daevetch bolt at the noise’s source, before remembering that Rhylix had probably made it.

Wait. Rhylix had been here the whole time, meaning he’d heard everything that had happened here.

Including everything Nylion had said.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered to no one.

What Rhylix had heard… he could extrapolate so many things from it, things he couldn’t know. No one could know that Raimie was actually Raimie and Nylion, not when the last time…

Gritting his teeth, Nylion sprinted out of the cell, leaving an unconscious woman behind.