The Burning Kingdoms - Sally Green Page 0,51

at the prisoner’s body as his lower half slithered slowly to the ground and the upper half was left nailed to the cross.

“Now that’s what I call a good spectacle,” Harold said with a smile. “Lift up the blade.”

The prince’s aide ran up to the contraption and pulled the rope but couldn’t move it. He pointed at March. “Help me here, Abask.”

March climbed onto the platform and pulled the rope, and, with the strength the smoke gave him, he raised the blade. It swung back into its upright position, splattering everyone with spots of blood. And then the innards of the man ran out, blood running in rivulets across the platform, an awful smell following. March didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to think. He focused on the rope and tied it securely before jumping down to the ground, getting away from it all as quickly as he could.

The prince was still staring at the man’s body. “It’s perfect. Quite beautiful. Imagine my uncle’s body being displayed like that—the cart being driven from town to town in Calidor. Carts for all his lords too, and that bastard son he’s claimed. It’ll be quite a parade.”

March shuddered. He’d not thought much of his original plan to help Edyon in the last few weeks, but this reminded him of his true aim. The Brigantines were not his friends. The idea of Edyon being treated like this was horrific. As much as March liked Rashford and being a member of the Bulls, they were part of the Brigantine army, and so too, it seemed, were horrors like this device. March would stay with the Bulls and help Edyon in any way if an opportunity arose to do so. But he couldn’t wait to get away from Harold.

The prince then raised his sword and shouted, “The Bull recruits have won! They worked fast and together. As a special honor they will be the first in my elite Gold Brigade. They will stay with me.”

TASH

DEMON TUNNELS

THE SPACE around Tash was bigger. Not much, but bigger. It was also lighter, as a faint red glow filled the air. Tash felt the warmth from the light and felt the light inside her too. She couldn’t make sense of it, but she was sure now that some of the red smoke from the dying demon had remained inside her, and it was allowing her to make a tunnel.

She’d started off on her back, gently rubbing the stone in front of her face. Slowly the space above her became bigger. Eventually she’d made enough room to sit up. Now the space was wide enough to stretch her arms out.

And it feels so, so, so good to stretch.

She took a break to roll her neck and her shoulders, then flex her legs and feet, but she had to get back to work. She leaned forward and breathed on the rock as she rubbed her hands over the surface. She was concentrating on the rock, thinking about making a tunnel, and slowly the rock dissipated and she edged forward. It was slow and difficult, her arms were aching, and the skin on her fingers was raw, but she was doing it.

At this rate, perhaps I’ll have tunneled out of here by the time I’m a hundred.

As she worked, Tash thought of her old freedoms that she’d taken for granted—running through the snow in sun-light, looking up at a starry sky, leaping over frozen streams.

The more she thought of good things, the faster she shuffled forward.

She tried to think of the human world, how beautiful it was, and how wonderful it would be to be back there, but as she got more tired, she could only think of the depth of rock between her and the world above, and how painful the raw skin on her fingers was.

It was too much to do, too far to go.

It’s impossible.

Her arms dropped to her sides, and Tash leaned her forehead against the stone and cried.

She wished Gravell was with her. She’d fall asleep in his arms and never wake up. Tears ran down her face as she imagined him holding her against his chest, his heart beating loud and steady as he put his arms round her. She imagined being on the Northern Plateau with him beneath a pale blue sky.

And then she was falling forward. The tunnel wall seemed to be receding without the use of her hands. But how?

Doesn’t matter how. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Think of Gravell.

She

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