something Morax is doing or if I’m in some kind of shock right now.
“Medley, face forward and don’t move,” Morax snaps, and her face goes blank as her hands drop lax to her side.
Morax’s hands skim my body once more before he steps away to go retrieve my sister from her cage, and my mind whirls with all the possibilities of what he’s going to do to us. I try to ignore my racing thoughts and the bile I can taste in the back of my throat.
We can do this.
We can survive whatever he throws at us...
I hope.
16
Morax orders Medley to stand next to me, and I do my best statue impersonation as her shoulder presses against mine. I wish feeling her next to me was some kind of comfort, but instead, it just feels like we’re both exposed to a ravenous lion who could maul one or both of us at any moment.
The Ophidian’s snakes move slowly and threateningly around his head, rubbing against one another and occasionally snapping and hissing at each other for reasons lost to me.
He walks slowly to Medley and pushes the long light purple hair off her shoulder as he looks down her body, reveling in the fact that there’s nothing she can do to stop him. Medley’s face is blank, and the visage is so effective that even I’m not sure if she’s using her ability or if Morax’s power actually took hold of her and she’s now trying to work her way out.
“Medley, pick a knife off the wall and stab your sister with it,” Morax orders, his voice dipped low as if he’s suggesting something seductive and not violent.
I have to force myself not to gasp or stiffen or widen my eyes. This is going to hurt.
Medley moves away from him past the table and picks the first knife within reach. Thankfully, it’s smaller, so it doesn’t appear like it’ll cause much damage, but a knife is a knife. Good thing we’ve been practicing.
I wrap my torso in a black layer of protective power, assuming that’s where she’ll inflict the wound, and hope it’ll help to dull the feel of the blade. Unfortunately, I can’t use too much power and dull the pain altogether, because if I misjudge it and use too much, I risk going completely paralyzed and unresponsive, and then Morax will know that something more than just his compulsion is at work.
An acrid burning smell tickles my nose as Medley stoically walks back toward me. Steam or smoke rises from where she’s gripping the knife, and it’s easy to see that the handle of the blade she’s holding onto is hurting her.
I try to hold my breath as she closes the distance between us, but quickly realize that might give me away. Adrenaline slams through me as firelight glints off the sharp blade. I keep telling myself that this isn’t the first time I’ve been cut and that I made it through all the other times. This will hurt, but then it will heal, and we’ll have proven ourselves to Morax.
Without a moment of hesitation, Medley plunges the knife into my side. I want to tell her good job, that she’s playing her part perfectly, but I’m still not sure if she is or not. Besides, I’m too busy with not screaming or flinching. As the piercing metal drives into my flesh, it takes enormous effort to slam down any reactions to the pain now flooding my system, and to keep my eyes and face blank.
The Ophidian takes a deep breath like he’s drinking in the bouquet of a fine wine as my blood spills past the blade and starts to leak down my lower abdomen and drip down past my thighs.
“Again, Medley,” Morax demands, and she pulls the small blade from me, just to shove it back in. Chains rattle, and I can practically feel the anger rippling out from Toreon’s cage. “Very good, Medley,” Morax praises. “Pull the knife out and let go.”
She does as she’s told, Morax plucking the knife from her hand. As soon as she lets go, I can see a nasty burn on her palm from where she gripped the handle of the warded weapon. She drops her hands to her sides, and Morax runs his finger over her shoulder and down her arm sensuously like the taunting bastard he is.
He steps past her, and I try to brace myself for whatever he might do next. “Sable, face me.”