Madness of the Horde King - Zoey Draven Page 0,127

a great hall carved from stone, deep within the mountain, where no light from the surface reached. The air was pungent and almost acidic. It coated my tongue and I had the strangest sense that I could suffocate from it.

How many times had I watched Vienne look up at the sky, or the moon, or the stars? How many times had I watched her lift her face back and feel the sun beam down on her skin…or close her eyes as she felt a soft breeze float across her cheeks?

I understood now why she’d found those sights and sensations so pleasurable. Because she’d been deprived of them here.

Many Ghertun were gathered, as if Lozza had called most of his people to the hall to witness whatever he had planned for me. My gaze tracked around slowly but I saw no vekkiri. I saw no Killup or Nrunteng. Mercifully, I saw no Dakkari either.

Their slaves were not present. Only a select number of the Ghertun population were because I was not so foolish as to believe that this was all that lived under the Dead Mountain.

Still, there were at least a hundred Ghertun gathered in this small space. The great hall was not so grand as the Dothikkar’s in Dothik, which could easily fill with five times as many beings.

“You are the horde king that laughs as you kill,” Lozza said as he stepped towards me, circling. “The one they say has a broken mind. The one they say wanders into the wild lands and bellows into the darkness.”

They have been watching me, I realized.

As if Lozza’s words summoned her, the shadowed form of my sister appeared next to the Ghertun king’s throne.

“She is here, Davik,” my sister whispered into my mind as she took a seat there.

I shook my head, my brows drawing together. My gaze refocused on the Ghertun king. He was staying just out of arm’s reach and there were four armed Ghertun guards close to me, their spears pointed at my throat.

My enuwip-dipped claws curled.

“I take it you received my message for your king?” Lozza asked.

“I am not here on behalf of the Dothikkar, Ghertun,” I rasped, never breaking his stare.

That startled him. Briefly. His eyes blinked twice and then he asked, “Then why have you come, horde king?”

“I have come for the cure to vovic. And I have come for the beings that you have enslaved with it,” I stated, the chains rattling at my wrists, clinking against my Vorakkar cuffs.

A murmur went through the Ghertun present. Their language sounded like hisses and lisps and rolling trills to my ears. I knew no words in Ghertun except vovic.

Lozza was no fool. He turned to a male standing near the throne—near the shadowed form of my sister. They spoke, briefly, but the older male rattled his head and then Lozza turned his gaze back towards me.

“I assume you seek a cure for the vekkiri messenger since none of our slaves are missing,” Lozza said easily. “I had wondered if the Dothikkar would take an interest in her. She was my gift to him, however fleeting her life is…and vekkiri die so easily. They are almost impossible to keep alive for very long.”

I was surprised that I didn’t lunge and rip out his throat right then and there. That rage snapped within me. If Vienne’s life wasn’t on the line…I probably would have given in to that temptation. Lozza’s blood would’ve splattered all over the dark floor of his throne room and I’d have marked myself with it after my kill.

Perhaps the bloodlust glowed in my gaze too brightly because Lozza took a step back—just a small one—before he remembered himself.

“There is no cure,” Lozza said.

“There is,” I rasped. “But I know as a supposed ‘king’ to your people, who keep slaves, it is in your interest to pretend as if there is none. Why give them ideas and hope, after all, when they are destined to die in this dark hell?”

When I looked back to the throne, my sister had disappeared again.

“The cure and the enslaved, Lozza,” I grated. “Or blood will run through the Dead Valley.”

“You will be the only one who dies here this day, horde king,” Lozza hissed, for the first time showing his temper, and the mask of impassive amusement melted away, leaving fury and fear in its wake.

I grinned.

“The Dothikkar readies his army,” I bluffed. “The outposts ready their armies. The hordes ready their armies. You will never have access to the