vicious [d.m]

eleven: burns & snakes

Khione wakes again to loud footsteps pounding above her.

She jolts upright, hand darting for her wand under her pillow, only to find the space empty. With her next breath, she remembers the last Trial and the Duellum and the poison.

Malfoy stirs on the armchair, eyes opening and flicking up to the ceiling above them as the foosteps continue, heavy and hard.

"Where are they?" growls out a deep voice, laced with rage. "We've searched the grounds twice over. They have to be somewhere."

"Calm yourself, brother. Maybe they perished in the last Trial."

Khione meets Malfoy's eyes as they flick back down to her. Radna — and Irvene.

Radna barks out a harsh laugh. "Perished? Have you forgotten who they are? Malfoy would never perish in such an easy trial. Neither would the girl."

"Then what?" Irvene sounds annoyed, voice echoing within the boathouse above them. "They're hiding somewhere, nursing their wounds. Let them. They're of no use to us yet."

Her brother releases a growl of frustration. She only heaves a sigh.

Malfoy raises his eyebrows at Khione. She shrugs in response, equally perplexed as he is.

"They cannot be paired together," Radna hisses then, so quiet Khione has to strain her ears to hear him. "Together—"

"Does it really matter? We're all trying to kill each other here, brother. Or have you forgotten that one of us will have to murder the other before this thing is over?"

Radna falls silent. Irvene lets out another heavy sigh. When she speaks again, it's too low for Khione to hear.

Khione stands — and Malfoy stirs on the armchair, one hand twitching on the armrest as if he's going to reach out and stop her. She ignores him and pads over to the door, fingers outstretched for the doorknob.

"Khione," Malfoy warns, quietly.

She twists the knob, cracking open the door and peeking her head out, revealing that long hallway with the ladder at the end, leading up to the boathouse above them.

"Khione." His voice is more urgent from behind her as she slips out, careful to stay deathly silent as she moves down the hallway. The floorboards don't so much as creak underneath her light feet and she only stops by the ladder where she can hear voices once more, muffled through the trapdoor above them.

"—her. You know this." Radna's voice is urgent and hushed.

"We have no evidence."

"I told you he told me."

"Do you really trust him?" Irvene says in response, sounding exasperated. "Think about who he is. Why would he tell us the truth?"

Khione can bet money they're talking about Malfoy. She glances up at the wooden face of the trapdoor, hands curling around the rungs of the ladder, purely to give her something to do as she listens.

"I trust him," Radna retorts — and it sounds like he begins pacing a couple seconds later. "We're allies. He knows that."

Irvene laughs then but it lacks humour. "You've truly forgotten who he is then. He'll put a knife through your back the second he gets the chance, Radna. How can you be so smitten with him?"

"I am not smitten." It's a snarl. "He's powerful. He can help us win—and when he does, all we have to do is get rid of him. Then it's a clear shot for us."

Another dry chuckle from Irvene. "Us, brother? You forget yourself. Only one of us is getting out of here alive."

A pause. Radna halts his pacing. "We'll figure out a way."