The Azimar Archives Book One- The Book of Death

Nevina

"Wake up, Nevina. We have much to discuss."

Nevina sighed, eyes still closed. "Great Ones take your wants, Mothlenor." She slowly opened them, taking in the sights of the bathhouse once more. She was once again naked, the warm water soothing on her skin. The room was still empty, save for a glass of red wine sitting on the lip of the bath, already waiting for her. And Mothlenor was sitting in the pool with her, just out of arms reach. "Do you have some odd fascination with summoning helpless women to you, naked and alone?"

Mothlenor smiled, though it seemed forced. "It's not my preference, actually. Just how the magic works."

"Blood magic," Nevina murmured. "I guessed as much, after last time. You used the rags your servants collected when they bathed me, am I correct?" Mothlenor nodded slightly, eyes on her. "And I'm actually here, in the bathhouse. This isn't an illusion." Another nod from Mothlenor. "I thought you were going to kill me? I was ready for it."

"Another was hung in your place. A woman with light hair, like yours, and with a similar build. To the rest of Azimar, you are dead."

Nevina nodded, the thought of an innocent woman dying in her place unsettling to her. She picked up the wine glass, fingering the stem. "Red wine." She had been flattered when Areanath remembered the small things she enjoyed, but then Areanath hadn't caused the deaths of so many she cared for.

"It's an easy enough thing to remember." Mothlenor moved suddenly, and Nevina's eyes flashed to him as he did, but he only grabbed a matching glass of wine and sipped from it before setting it aside once more. "I heard you lost another two girls since we last spoke."

Nevina wanted to curse at him. But she couldn't find the energy to do more than answer numbly. "Lilith died a few hours after I was here last. Your men shoved a knife into her, and the wounds couldn't be healed with these damned cuffs on." Nevina shook one arm weakly, the cuff holding fast to her wrist. "Nala apparently went into shock after being raped. She never snapped out of it. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink. She wasted away, and Kall could only watch her as she died." She sipped from her wine, the alcohol working its way around the lump in her throat. "Your servant has been kind enough to keep me updated. She seems to find joy in knowing that I am powerless to protect my girls."

"I'm sorry." Mothlenor sighed. "I didn't mean for it to happen this way."

Nevina snorted, eyes welling with tears. "Don't lie, Mothlenor." She rubbed at a spot of dirt on her arm, trying for a moment to forget the cell waiting for her.

"I am not lying, Nevina." Mothlenor's voice was low, but unusually soft. He almost sounded like his brother, and the sound of it pulled Nevina's gaze up. "I only wanted you here," Mothlenor continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "I still only want you. It was not my idea to bring your girls to the castle, and it was certainly not my idea to rape and kill them."

Nevina's gaze narrowed. She could nearly believe him, and that frightened her. "Then let them go." Her voice was firm, far stronger than she actually felt.

Mothlenor nodded. "That is what I brought you here to discuss."

Nevina said nothing, not wanting to betray the sudden hope she felt.

"The former Matriarch came to visit me a few days ago. She told me something interesting about you and my brother."

Nevina's heart raced. Nevara, here? Why would she come?

Mothlenor continued, noting her silence with a frown. "She said that at least one of the girls you brought with you was my brother's daughter." His head tilted, lips thin. "Is that true?"