Chapter 23

Lilitha’s thoughts turned over as she strolled through the trees. She yawned and rounded her shoulders, suddenly feeling so tired she could lie down right where she stood and fall asleep.

“Lilitha.”

Lilitha turned. “Damon.”

“Come.” He was smiling as he held out his hand. “I’ll take you someplace dry and warm.”

Lilitha took his hand, and he led her a short way to a little overhanging ridge. Long, thick vines blocked out much of the sunlight as she passed within.

“Cozy,” she said.

There was some bedding made of soft grass laid out. Kindling was stacked in the corner. Bowls made of clay were stacked on top of each other. Clothes were bundled in the corner.

Damon pulled off her cloak. He went over and picked up the bundle of clothes. “These are yours.” He held them out. “They’re warm and dry. The cloak is waterproof.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking them. They felt very soft. She yawned, then shook her head. Her eyelids kept sliding shut.

“Get changed and rest.” He gestured at the bed. “I’ll be close by if you need anything.”

“I should sleep with Clara. I should be with ~her~.” But Damon helped her into her pants and top and wrapped the cloak around her. Then she found herself kneeling in the bedding. She couldn’t stop yawning. She slumped into it.

It seemed only moments when she next woke—though it must have been hours because it was night. Lilitha sat up with a start. Crickets were chirping. Frogs were croaking. She stretched out her arms, feeling surprisingly awake.

Pulling her cloak tight, she crept out from the ridge. She straightened and turned her face toward the sky. Another dry night, stars winked at her through the branches. It was so pretty. It was ~all~ so pretty. She turned to look over her shoulder, thinking of Clara, only to turn back again, nose raised to the air. That tantalizing, forbidden, terrible smell—it was back again.

She was suddenly hungry. ~Starving~. Gripping her belly with a grimace, she left the ridge behind and followed her nose.

She soon stumbled upon a familiar place. The eighteen shackles glinted in the drying earth. It was strange looking at it now. The dread was gone but the horror remained. Horror at what Damon was. Horror at what she was becoming. She could never do it. She could never do what he did.

Lilitha left the shackles behind, passing through the trees until she stopped at a cliff. She looked over the edge, imagining Norfolk nestled somewhere below. It felt like another planet, somewhere far away in time and space.

She left it behind, nose tilted as she followed along the cliff edge, so hungry she felt sick. Thrown up from the void, an icy wind tugged at her cloak and snatched at her hair.

Shortly, she came upon a mass of boulders, the topmost sitting stark against the twinkling sky. A strong wind whistled between the cracks, sending shards of broken rock and dust skittering about. It looked terrifying, but the smell of blood reached out and clawed at her until she almost wept at the pain of her hunger. It was there. Somewhere within those rocks.

She continued. Bracing herself against the boulders on her left, she inched and climbed and wove her way through. She soon discovered an entrance: a large, wide opening with a beaten trail leading into it. She stopped, wiping her mouth. Releasing an anxious breath, she entered.

Lilitha stepped back with a cry.

Bodies! Two bodies were dangling from the ceiling by the rear wall, their ankles chained and pinned to the rock above. Men, naked and stained with blood, arms outstretched, both with deep wounds in their flanks or in their thighs or with limbs missing. She could see bone and sinew. Their throats were gaping open, blood spattering the floor beneath.

“Who’s there?” came a voice.

Lilitha spun around, her heart in her throat. She ~knew~ that voice. Laymond—he was alive. At least, what was left of him. Fastened to the wall by chains, he slumped in his iron cuffs. He still wore his cloak, but it gaped open, revealing a bloodied flank which had sunken in, as though a chunk had been taken out of it. He was on a carpet of ground cover, filthy with his waste.

“Who’s there?” he repeated, squinting through the darkness.

Panting, Lilitha backed away until she was pressed up against the wall. He hung his head, slumping in his chains.

“L-Laymond?”

He jerked up his head. “Witch?” He yanked at his chains. “You need to help me. You gotta get me outta here! Please. ~Please~.” He sounded so pathetic Lilitha’s gut wrenched. She was trembling as she went over.

Her fingers scrabbled futilely at his cuffs. “I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s a key. Find the key. And hurry! It’s dark now and it’ll be back. I don’t want it ~back~.”

Lilitha didn’t dare ask who. She turned away and surveyed the rest of the cavern, her gaze drifting over a crowd of shields and golden swords, armor, a mound of cloaks and clothes, and a large pile of golden things. Lilitha swallowed, thinking of the slaughtered Champions. The monsters… no… ~Damon~, must have stripped their corpses of everything valuable.

She looked again at the two bodies. She’d been inside the village’s butcher shop once. The pigs had hung much the same way. Lilitha shivered.

“Witch! Get the key!”

With a jerk, Lilitha scrambled toward the nearest jumble of “stuff,” searching. She came upon a stack of buckets and baskets. Her mouth instantly burst with saliva. They were the same baskets Damon had used to feed her. The ~smell~.

She couldn’t stop herself from reaching for one.

“Witch!”

Lilitha turned at the sound of heavy footsteps.

“It’s here!” he hissed.

She spun on the spot, searching for somewhere to hide. She dove into the mound of clothing.

She kept still, barely breathing, heart thundering wildly. Through a gap in the fabric, she saw massive boots enter the cavern, the hem of a cloak swaying around a pair of muscular calves. Laymond was very quiet now, though she could hear his ragged breathing.

It went over to the bodies. It stopped, gave a sniff, and looked around, its cloak sweeping as it turned. Lilitha held her breath. Then it grunted and stepped out of view, and she could breathe again. There came another grunt, a creak, then a sickening pop, as it tore something away from one of the dead.

Its boots returned, and it dropped to its rump against the wall directly in front of her, sweeping wide a pair of bronzed thighs. It was holding a long, floppy arm. Elbows braced on its knees, it leaned over and bit in. Its face was concealed behind its hood, but the front of its cloak gaped open, revealing a muscular core and an enormous penis. And somehow she knew …

Mateus.

At the snap of bone, she squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear him sucking and gnawing, crunching and tearing. Blood flicked and smacked on the floor, sending Lilitha’s senses reeling. She felt sick, she felt hungry, terrified and intrigued all at once.

When he had finished, he gave a satisfied grunt. Then came a scuff and a scrape as he stood. She opened her eyes and saw the heels of his boots disappear out of the cavern.

Lilitha stayed still, her ears ringing in the silence. Slowly, she eased out from her hiding place. She had just gotten up when a huge figure stepped back through the entrance.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”