Abolisher [Drothiker #2]

11.

It was midnight when Faolin's feet began moving, led her out of her room, her apartment, the building. And were now steering her through a dark forest with an aim she wasn't conversed with.

She'd guessed the aim, though—knew exactly what the sudden reverberations in her head meant, what the pull to her mejest meant.

A year ago, Darkness had been her master. Faolin had felt the loss of control as her body had vulnerably become someone else's to command, when her limbs didn't listen to her, didn't obey—not to her. She'd just been a vessel for the unholiness Deisn Rainfang had poured in her. Nothing more.

A year ago, Faolin had lost her mind, her soul, her body. Death had refused to claim her when life had abandoned her. She'd been left for Darkness to gnaw at.

A year ago, Faolin had met someone.

The woman had somehow sucked out the Darkness from her body—enough for Faolin to regain control of her limbs—like one might drink water from a glass.

"The Moon Sadist," she'd crooned as soon as Faolin's sight had returned—her face was the first she'd seen after days of eternal dark. She'd been beautiful, Faolin still remembered the way her gold-flecked obsidian eyes had gleamed, the way her angular cheekbones had lifted with that wicked smile.

The woman held a locket in her hand, her slender eyes fixed on it. "Is this the secret behind the ruthless mask of the Steelier Weapon?" She spoke the titles so softly—soft as a lover—and yet the voice rung in Faolin's ears.

Faolin was too dazed—too weak—too exhausted—to go for weapons, for her body to answer to her assassin instincts.

"Why?" was all Faolin could muster. How? should have been her first question. How had the woman managed to trap the Darkness in that locket? How had she known that Faolin was trapped by the Darkness in the first place? "Why ... help ..."

"Help?" The woman snorted. "Oh, darling. It's a debt."

"How ... do I ... repay ..." Because even in that haze, gratitude had gushed Faolin like nothing she'd ever experienced before. The Darkness was the worst torment she'd ever faced—it was neither life, nor death. In it, she'd been forced to go through her worst fears over and over. In it, her mind had been zapped and ripped and burned. In it, she'd been hopeless and lost and alone. It'd been Saqa and she'd wanted to die.

And this stranger ... this stranger had just ...

The woman had stroked Faolin's hair out of her face.

"Come when I call."

And then the world before Faolin had disappeared, claimed by a different dark. Comfortable dark. And she never saw that stranger again.

Now, as Faolin's feet walked through the forest, crushing the twigs, the words buzzed in her head.

Come when I call.

The call had arrived, and Faolin was answering.

The trees cleared, disclosing a clear line of buildings a few yards from her. The ghostly whispers in her grew, urged her to advance. So Faolin did. The woman had made no other bargains—no other demands. All she'd asked was to come.

She hadn't clarified whether to come to aid, or to walk right into a trap.

And Faolin knew better than to trust any stranger blindly—especially someone who'd radiated that much power. She found herself taking all safety precautions as her feet walked. Her hands were in closer distance to her weapons, each inch of her body was ready. Alert.