Danica Horanská woke up chained to a metal bar with her wrist dangling in a rusty handcuff. She struggled to feel the darkness, fumbling for a door. Danica swung forward, but a terrible headache pinned her to the floor as soon as she tried to move her numb limbs. Darkness choked life from her. Eventually she would succumb to it, despite her resistance. Steadying her heartbeat, she forced the light within her body to resurface and glow through her skin. Danica realized the peril of her captivity all too well: a light-bender left in the darkness for more than a couple of days was doomed. "They think they can drain me... Sweet," she scoffed into the black abyss surrounding her. "I am not done. Oh, you just wait."
Through the gentle glitter of her hands she saw the damp walls of the cellar covered with mold and moss, bags with cables scattered around and a large metal table. The next discovery was frightening: her golden scarf was missing, her jacket and her once presentable velvet trousers were all torn and stained with blood and dirt. Danica had never cared much for her looks, but whoever had taken her scarf was going to pay dearly.
The stinging pain in her forehead clouded her thoughts. If Rinari's spies wanted her dead, they would have already killed her. Somehow she was still alive. She remembered the stranger who had offered her his help and regretted she had rejected the deal. She should have known better. She had overestimated her own abilities, and now she was paying the price. Just like her father. Danica had never considered her father anything more than a useless alcoholic. Was he also a murderer? The discovery did not shatter her opinion of him as much as she had hoped it would.
Distant footsteps sent shivers through her tired body. She propped herself on her elbows, preparing for the inevitable. A heavy iron door squeaked, sending dim rays into the cellar, filling Danica's light-hungry being with awe profound as prayer.
Three silhouettes appeared in the doorway, and Danica struggled to discern their features. Her ears served her better than her eyes: she recognized the smooth high-pitched voice immediately. Its hypnotizing notes were unmistakable: only Arta Rinari spoke with such deliberate sweetness.
"I told them not to hurt her," she said, turning to her companion. "Vaclav obviously did not take my order to heart. Are you the only one whom I can trust with these matters, Ilir?" Arta Rinari towered over Danica and smiled, clad in a purple dress with silk gloves.
"What do you want?" What else could Danica ask the head of the Spy Guild? She preferred to come off as angry rather than weak.
"Your cooperation." A short black-haired man with dusky skin stepped forward. "My aunt has no intention of making you suffer."
Danica winced. So that was the infamous 'nephew' then. Fine.
"I can be very kind and considerate." Those wild eyes showed none of the promised kindness.
"Then you could apologize, return me my scarf and let me go."
Danica's brown eyes flashed her an angry glare. Arta's finely sculpted lips formed a straight line that broke into a spiteful grin. Then she leaned over her, long straight hair brushing Danica's cheeks.
"I would like nothing more... But," she moved away, "certain formalities must be observed. Certain things must be fixed."
"I don't think I can fix anything."
"Don't be shy! You are excellent at fixing things." A chilling stare and an empty laugh hypnotized Danica. "You see, pani Horanská, your recent escape from Chlápková with the help of that... stranger... made me wonder if there's more to you than you let on."
Was it all because of her bragging during the hearing? An instant chill descended over Danica when she realized that her tinkering with the Ancestors technology and her persistent swagger could come at a high price.
YOU ARE READING
Byzantine Purple
Fantasy"History is a survivor's tale. It knows no villains. Only failures." A decade ago, Leudora had her major enemies eliminated - the scientist known as the Dalmatian Serpent, and his followers, who sought her people's blood. A ruthless guardian of her...
