The Azimar Archives Book One- The Book of Death

Layle

Layle sat alone in her cell, shaking hands draped in her lap. The room stank of blood, and the smell of it made her sick, but she could do nothing to rid herself of it. She could hardly be bothered to breathe.

They had separated the Matriarch from the rest of them soon after they had found themselves inside the dungeons. Layle knew even then what might happen, but she had urged her mother to go. She had already tried and failed to work spells around her cuffs, but had thought that they might still be able to fight back.

She had been wrong.

She and the rest of the girls had been led down to the far end of the row of cells, before being split in half and locked into adjoining rooms. The screams from the next room had been unearthly and terrifying. Arella had started to cry almost immediately, cowering behind Layle. Millie pounded on the wooden door, screaming for them to stop hurting the other girls. Layle tried using every defensive spell she knew, but the cuffs stopped her each time, their cold metal piercing and digging into her flesh. Millie screamed until her throat was hoarse, and her hands bled from splinters digging into the flesh of her palms, but the noises from the next room continued.

Finally, the sounds in the next room stopped.

The door to their cell was unlocked, and Millie threw herself at the first man to enter, but she was batted away like an annoying insect.

Arella was pulled from Layle's grasp, and Millie once again tried to intervene. She was once again batted away.

Layle tried again to call on her magic, hoping the could still save them. But nothing worked. She was powerless.

Arella was thrown to her back on the floor, and Layle was forced to her hands and knees closeby. Her sister's terrified eyes locked onto hers as one small hand shot out to reach for her.

Layle grasped Arella's hand tightly, unwilling to let go.

She held on when a man fell onto her sister's frail body, covering all but her golden hair.

She held on while her sister was ravaged, Arella's grip tightening with every thrust.

She held on when the man pressed a knife to Arella's throat and cut it open.

She held on while her sister's grip weakened.

She was finally forced to let go when someone grabbed Arella's body by one ankle and dragged her from the cell, leaving a trail of wet blood. It was only then that Layle realized that Millie lay in a similar state nearby, the brown eyes always hidden behind her veil now dead and distant. She was also dragged from the cell, a second trail of crimson marking her path.

Only Layle was left, sitting against the door, staring at the trail her sister had left behind.

"Layle?" It was Kall's voice, coming from the hall. The girl must have pressed herself to the door in order to be heard.

"Yes?" Her voice was hoarse. Had she screamed too?

"It's Lilith. She's bleeding badly. I... I think they put a knife in her..." Kall's voice trailed.

"We can't heal her," Layle said numbly. "How is Nala?"

"She's in shock."

"And you?"

"Better than Nala."

For now, Layle almost said.

"How are Millie and Arella?"

Layle hesitated. But what use was it to lie?

"They're dead."

Layle could hear Kall beginning to cry, but she ignored it. She could only stare at the blood on the floor, listening to the sound of her sister screaming her name, over and over again.

With each remembered scream, Layle called on her magic again, relishing the pain the cuffs brought. Her own blood began to trickle down into her open palms.

She would find a way around them.

She would find a way to break her bonds.

For Arella.