Chapter 8 Sharm fell back against the cold brick wall, trembling. Sweat glistened on her brow and trickled down the back of her neck, absorbing into the soft cloth of her robe. She clutched her hands tight to her chest and tried to calm herself. Her blue eyes darted wildly around her surroundings. She was in the heart of the Undercity. Alone. She gasped in the stench of death and felt its sweet, iciness invading her lungs. Although she had left her friends to grieve for their fallen ally, she now wished she hadn’t been so adamant about coming here alone. The darkness that resided here clung to her and drenched her in sheen of disorientation and anxiety. No one had noticed her presence yet. She had stuck close to the shadowy walls, one hand trailing softly along them as she ventured deeper into the vast city of the Undead. The humid air made her hair stick to her skin and her clothes heavy. The urge to summon a Minion for protection as much as company was gnawing away at her like an addict trying to kick the habit. A silver blade glinted in her peripherals and she spun round to face the advancer. It’s undead form shook softly and the blade reflected the light, strobing. It licked it’s lips as it slowly advanced, creaking like an old tree. She pressed herself harder into the wall and could feel unharnessed shadowy surges of energy building in her fingertips. Her eyes closed for a single moment as she heard a deep moan and then a thud. Opening them hesitantly, she saw the undead laying still on the floor, a pool of rich, red blood pouring out from under it. She released the breath she had been holding for what felt like an eternity and took a tentative step towards the body, her hand involuntarily moving out towards its lifeless form. “Why have you come here?” A blade, much bigger and weightier than the previous, rested at the base of her neck on her collarbone. It crossed the entire width of her body, causing her to raise her chin and lean back to accommodate it. Her eyes fell to the hand wielding the sword. It was gloved in black leather and glistened in the humid air. Tepid air traced the nape of her neck as the assailant breathed slowly, waiting for her answer. She shifted her weight. The heaviness of the sword forced her into an unnatural and uncomfortable stance. “W-who are you?” she whispered. The assailant paused. She could sense he was thinking. Thinking about killing her? He roughly pulled her back along the wall towards a darkened corner. She caught the eye of a resident watching from inside her home. Sharm pleaded with her eyes, but the curtain of the window was pulled abruptly shut. A hand pushed into Sharm’s chest and pinned her back against the wall. The sword still held under her neck, her assailant had put himself in front of her and she gasped. “Now do you know?” He asked, the blue sheen of his eyes twisting into amusement under his black hood. She nodded quickly. “Why have you come here?” he asked again, darkly. This wasn’t a time to falter. His gloved hand held a handful of her robe and pushed painfully into her chest. The blade remained faultlessly still at her throat. Sharm could feel the spring of emotion she had contained deep inside beginning to unravel and swell, consuming her physically and mentally. Dangerously, she brought her hand up to his and tried to push the sword away in a gesture of floundering despair. For a moment, the blade dwindled and felt almost loose in his grip as she lowered it, unthinkingly. A growl escaped his lips, and before she had a chance to think, it was pressed close under her chin as he moved in closer to her. She watched as tendrils of her hair danced against the blade and drifted gently to the floor. “Tell me now or so be it your blood will spill and flow into the Undercity sewers, just like his.” He jerked his head at the twitching undead on the floor. Sharm looked at the body and squeezed her eyes shut. Why had she come here alone? What was she thinking? “I came…for answers.” She responded quietly. Persuader stood motionless, staring into her frightened eyes. His aura was heavy with danger and composed adrenaline. The tail of his silken cloak swayed gently at his feet. Sharm stared back at him. The feeling of defeat and humiliation of putting herself into this situation washed over her. She thought of Athenist and his bright smile. He wouldn’t have wanted this, she thought sadly. The blade at her throat was slicing into her skin and a trickle of blood ran down her neck. Persuader watched it engagingly. It trickled down into her bodice leaving a warm trail behind it; the first shred of warmth Sharm had felt since she had stepped foot into the city. The blade pressed harder and Sharm lifted her chin as high as she could, her face pained. She feared to move, to breathe. “People shouldn’t come looking for me for answers.” He said in an emotionless tone as he began tilting the blade softly, up and down. Sharm caught her reflection in the blade as it faced up to her momentarily. She looked like a terrified rabbit stricken motionless with fear. Her mind once again began to drift off, away from this horrific incident, away from the forsaken city. Her eyelids closed gently. She could feel the ominous ripple of unconsciousness break onto the shore of her mind. She could see a dark ocean, the scent of rain tinged air and sea salt weaving into her dreamy state. She hoped she fainted, she wanted to faint. She wanted to forget all the pain she felt inside for the loss of her friend. Her body rocked against the wall, the blade grazing her neck further. Persuader’s eyes narrowed and his sword dropped as Sharm slid to the floor; the black ocean consuming her completely. ----- Raspy coughs awoke her. Coarse and shallow. She realised they were her own. Her mouth was dry like cotton and she wet her lips. Her head swayed, golden hair falling over her face. The coldness of the ground greeted her swiftly, a sudden sensation that made her bring her knees up to her chest. She was seated and bound, leaning back against a crude wooden pole that jutted out of the ground. Her hands were tied tightly behind her and around the pole. She blinked dazedly, trying to focus on her surroundings. Her staff was leant up against the wall, flickering quietly. Every so often, a sparkling purple ember would spit out from it and twirl in the air before disappearing. Her backpack lie next to it, teasing her with glints of objects inside that could potentially free her. Realisation hit her. She still had her dagger! She shifted quickly to look down at her side where her dagger hung, eyes wide. “I am not a fool.” Persuader’s voice carried across the small, candlelit room and destroyed Sharm’s shred of hope. He was sat at a square, wooden table in the corner, barely distinguishable. Her dagger shimmered in his hand, exquisite colours of purple, fuchsia and blue. He turned it over, examining it tauntingly before running the tip under his nails. “Why am I bound here?” She shouted desperately at him. What she had meant to ask is why she was not dead. It would have made his life a lot easier. He placed the dagger down and stood up, pushing his chair politely back under the table. “If I smell so much as the spark of a spell, I will kill you.” He crossed the room and crouched down before her. His gaze perused her slowly. Sharm narrowed her eyes, disgusted at his open display of scrutiny. Instinctively she pulled her knees further in to her chest. “It’s not often I have guests.” He continued, “Please excuse the … mess.” Sharm tilted her head. His words were forced and bitten out. How long had it been since he had last used his old Human language? His hood had fallen around his neck to reveal his face. It was truly wicked, lined and pale and sullen. Silver hair tinged with gold tangled down around his shoulders, surprisingly thick. She caught the glimpse of more than one weapon strapped to his armour; throwing daggers and axes. Tiny razor like blades that looked extremely lethal. Sharm tested the ropes around her wrists again. Knotted tight. “Why…” “Didn’t I kill you?” he filled in for her. Sharm nodded. He stood up and walked to her staff touching it carefully. The purple flicker grew. “Your tactical decision to faint was very good.” He said slowly. Sharm frowned. It hadn’t been tactical. “I couldn’t leave you there for the others.” He turned to look at her. “Besides, you said you wanted answers. I thought I would entertain that idea.” He crossed to the other side of the room and began pouring liquid into a dark, glass goblet from a bucket heating over the open fire. She watched as he set it down on the table, steam rising up from the simmering contents. “Its just business, you know. Your friend was just business.” He spoke with his back turned to her. She glared at the back of him hoping he could feel her eyes burning into him with all the hatred she felt inside. Athenist’s life had been business. She shook her head, disgusted. “How can you say that?” she muttered bitterly. “You took his life without question! He was a good person!” Persuader spun to look at her. “It is not for me to judge of who is good and who is evil. I do only what others are too weak to do.” He picked up the drink and held it out to her. “Are you thirsty?” His tone had changed to one underlined with uncertainty. Sharm grimaced. “I won’t take anything from you!” she screamed at him. Her eyes flashed and a surge of shadow danced from her hands. The shadow twined around the rope and suddenly completely shattered it like glass. The shards hung suspended in the air for a split second before they crashed to the ground noisily. Persuader growled as Sharm began to rise hastily. Her legs were weak and she wobbled feebly. He grabbed out for her, spinning her on her heel and pulling her into a one-armed embrace, her back leaning on him. “That was uncalled for.” He muttered into her cheek as he bought the drink to her lips. The steam rose up as the liquid touched her lips. She pursed them hard. “Drink!” he demanded. He trailed his arm up her body to her head and prised her lips apart. The liquid rushed in and Sharm sputtered. She could feel drops of it sliding down into her stomach and it made her retch. Persuader stepped back, arms wide, still holding the goblet. Sharm keeled over holding her stomach. Her body was trying to reject the fluid but it was clinging to her insides like little jittering bugs. She felt strange. Sleepy. She fell crossed legged on to the ground, eyes vague. “I knew you’d try something like that.” Persuader crouched down and lifted her over to the chair at the table. He placed her in it and watched her. Sharm looked back at him. She seemed fearful still, but very, very calm. Her hand rested on the table almost lifelessly. The jewelled rings she wore looked dull; as if they too had lost all energy. He retrieved her staff and placed it beside her. “I’ve drained you of your magic. Temporarily.” He flicked her staff. “So you can have this back.” Inside Sharm’s mind, she screamed.