The Azimar Archives Book One- The Book of Death

Nevina

Nevina's breathing came in ragged gasps, the foul air gagging her even as she struggled to fill her lungs. She was doubled over, the muscles in her throat working as she tried to scream. Hot fire lanced through her body, momentarily blinding her with pain. She was sure, for a moment, that her heart had stopped, and that she was dying.

And then, in an instant, the pain was gone.

No lingering aches, no fading muscle spasms.

Just gone.

She tried to sit up, wiping spittle from her lips, but a wave of nausea sent her scurrying as far as her chains allowed her before she retched. She could taste blood, where she had inadvertently bitten her tongue. After a moment the nausea passed, and she crawled back to the wall she had been chained to.

What just happened?

The pain had been sudden and unexpected. One moment, she had been sitting on the floor of a dark and rather filthy dungeon, trying to slip her already chafed and raw hands through the cuffs they were in, and the next she was doubled over, spasms agonizing every muscle in her body as her blood turned to fire inside her veins.

And then it was gone, just as suddenly as it had come.

Nevina sat against the wall, not daring to move, afraid that torturous pain might come back again. Had she activated some spell by trying to slip her bonds? She tried again to probe her surroundings, but was unable to perceive anything. She could tell there was magic in the dungeon, she could almost taste it, but the cuffs on her wrists blocked her arcane abilities. She was alone, defenseless, and chained to a wall in a filthy dungeon.

She could only hope her girls were better off.

After the Dragon Door had shut behind them, the men had led them through a labyrinth of tunnels and hallways. Nevina had hoped that if they were to be held captive, they would at least be held together. But once they had reached the foul-smelling pits, Nevina was separated from her girls. She had fought, even kicked a man in the groin and had her arm around his throat, ready to squeeze the life out of him. But Layle called out to her, those blue eyes burning again in the torchlight, and had told her it was alright. She had told her to let them go. And with Layle's words, Nevina had felt utterly defeated. They already knew their fates. She could do nothing for them.

That had been some time ago. How long, exactly, Nevina couldn't be sure. There were no torches, and no way to sense the passing of time. There was only darkness, her cuffs, and now the fear of that awful agony returning.

Nevina gathered her courage and tried again to slip her cuffs. After a moment, she stopped. There was no searing pain running through her body. Only pain from her wrists, which were now cut and bleeding again. It hadn't been a spell she'd triggered that doubled her over only moments before.

Fear settled over her, making her stomach roll with nausea again. Could the pain have been from Areanath's death? An effect not from a spell she'd triggered, but that he had? Areanath had said she might not feel his passing.

But magic is tricky.

She couldn't use magic to tell if her fears were true, not with the cuffs cutting into her wrists every time she tried to channel energy, but there was an emptiness in her soul that told her she was right.

Suddenly the darkness seemed even heavier around her, and she wept.

Her first round of tears had only just dried when she heard footsteps echoing close by. Torchlight glowed dimly under the wooden door, and she could hear the unmistakable jingling of keys just outside. Nevina got to her unsteady feet, hoping against hope that someone had come to release her. Within seconds, the lock clicked and the door was shoved open roughly. Three men entered, including the tall knight that had led her captors. They'd taken off their helms, apparently satisfied that either the dimness or the cuffs would prevent her from Seeing anything about them. They might have been right, but Nevina was sure no amount of Sight would make her any less afraid of them

"The King asked us to keep an eye on you. He'll be on his way back soon, I expect," the larger one said. His pale face was ghastly in the odd flickering of the torch he'd brought with him. "He did say he wanted you alive, which is a damn shame. He even said he wanted you to be left in good condition. But I think he and I might differ a bit on the meaning of 'good condition'." He smiled, an evil smirk half cast in shadow. "And he said nothing about your girls." He shrugged. "Which is good, considering you're now two little witches short."

Nevina bit her lip, stifling a cry. Her heart skipped several beats. What had they done to her girls?

"Now, the whole lot of us all had our turns with the little ones. But my friends and I, well..." He smirked again, "I suppose our appetites are a little more voracious than most." He motioned to one of the men with him. This one pulled a long dagger out of his belt, glittering eyes fixed on her. Nevina tried to run, but could only get so far with the chains digging into her wrists. And the man with the knife was faster than her. He grabbed her by the hair, slipping the dagger under her chin. Nevina yelped at the cold touch of metal against her neck, but the man restraining her only chuckled in her ear. The larger one stepped in front of her. With one quick motion, he yanked the veil from her face, taking several strands of her hair with it. That sinister smile twisted his lips again. "Good for you that you're a pretty one." He took a half step back, untying the front of his breeches. "It'd be easier to get away with killing an ugly witch."

With only a quick glance from the larger man, the one restraining her suddenly pushed her into the wall, face first. Her forehead hit the stone with a jarring smack, and Nevina struggled vainly as the man stretched her chained arms above her head and touched the tip of the knife to her ribs.

"You just said you can't kill me." Nevina pleaded with him.

His muddy brown eyes met her. "I can make you bleed." His voice was reedy compared to the larger man's, but his words sent a cold chill down her spine.

The larger man kicked her feet apart, and she tried she break away as her skirt was lifted, but the tip of the dagger dug painfully into her flesh, and she stopped writhing.

Nevina caught sight of the third man, silent and unmoving by the door. "Please. Don't let them do this." A drop of moisture fell onto her raised arm, and she realized that she was crying.

"Careful, witch." The larger man crooned in her ear. With a few tugs, he tore away her underclothes. "That one likes it when they beg."

And his weight suddenly pressed against her, pinning her against the stone wall as he forced himself inside her.

At first she'd fought, but each movement had earned her a cut from the dagger or a punch to the ribs. She'd called on her skills again and again, but still she could not defend herself with her magic. Finally, too bruised and bloody to move, she stopped fighting, calling instead on the Great Ones to aid her.

But they could not hear her, so deep within the dungeons.