A harsh white light poured down so powerfully that he felt it. Looking up was impossible. The light was centered on him, stealing colors and leaving those around him in shadow. He could see her—some of her. The queen was sitting just a few inches away. A pair of unforgiving boots whose toes came to long spear points were eye-level with him. Her long leather-clad legs had a black polished sheen, or maybe that was still the boots. He couldn’t tell. She had them crossed, the top leg bobbing on the other, rocking with impatience.
“Feeling better?” the queen asked. “Perhaps not.” Now, she was talking to him. He knew this although he still couldn’t see her face. Everything above the queen’s knees was hidden behind that painful illumination. “This is where you are supposed to be. You know that—must have felt it the moment you entered. That girl was confusing you. She doesn’t belong, and yet she is here, so there has been deceit and underhandedness. Let me be the first to extend some sympathy. I know it can’t be easy to discover that the one you love doesn’t feel the same way.”
Tesh resolved not to speak. She was goading him, and he was weak and off-balance. He felt it best to keep his shield up and his head down.
“She just left you there, ran away, saved herself. I’m sure that’s what you told her to do, but it didn’t take much convincing, did it? If she really loved you—the way you love her—she would have stayed. You wouldn’t have left her, would you? Even if she begged, you’d have stayed. But she ran off. Why is that, do you think? We both know the answer, don’t we? Because there can be only one reason.”
Her voice, like the light, fell on him with a physical sensation. The words stung like cold pinpricks of ice; they hit him from above, from out of the impenetrable glow.
“Havar of Mari stood his ground in the face of the countless Uber Ran that poured out of Erebus. He stood alone on the field before the golden gate. When everyone else fled, he remained rather than abandon his dog, which had been mortally wounded, beyond help. We pleaded with him to run, to fight with us another day, but still he stayed. And he died. The great Havar gave up his life because he loved that stupid dog—because he loved it.”
The overhead light shifted. Tesh heard movement, and when the queen spoke again, her voice was closer. “Brin doesn’t love you. Maybe she did once. Then she learned what you were, what you are, and what you did. Those things drove a wedge. Convinced her that your allotted place wasn’t with her—it’s with me. You are one of my kind, Tesh. You don’t live in a dream. You see the world for what it is—a fight. All of us have been thrown into this arena and were given weapons to survive if we can. Loyalty has to be earned and cruelties repaid. That’s how war is conducted, and it doesn’t end when you die. Life is merely the process of qualifying for entrance. Living decides whose team you join. You belong on mine. She doesn’t. Your feelings for her were misplaced. If the two of you had lived, she would have left you just as easily as she did on the battlefield. She could never love a murderer.”
Those last words were more than chilling, more than mere pinpricks of ice. They were like a stabbing icicle. The truth did that. He cringed, gasped, and clawed the floor in real pain—the white floor that wasn’t stone but bleached bone.
“Tell me, Tesh,” the queen asked in a soft near-whisper that came close to his ear. “Where is the key?”
He shivered.
“We searched you. Didn’t find it. Is it Moya? Brin? Does she have it? Gifford maybe?”
She waited.
Tesh stayed silent.
The queen moved away, taking the light with her. “You’re here now, Tesh.” She spoke louder. “You’ll be here for eternity. There is no changing that. You might as well meet your new family.”
With the light dimmed, Tesh could see—not far, but enough to view the faces of those around him. Many were unknown—the Galantians were not. The only face that surprised Tesh was Tekchin’s, who stood with the others circling him. Most of them he’d killed, all taken by surprise, caught when weak or off-balance. He didn’t regret any of it. Nor would he make any apologies. They got what they deserved. Their slaughter of his village hadn’t been a fair fight, either.
Sebek watched him with particular intensity. The Fhrey was no longer injured, and his swords, Lightning and Thunder, were undamaged and once more at his sides.
“Tesh,” the queen said, “you aren’t going to be with Brin, no matter how things turn out. She won’t stay here. But you will. You understand that, don’t you? And it’s important to know that I’m not speaking of a year, a decade, a lifetime, or even a century. No, I refer to all of eternity. This is where you will be—this is your home now, and I am your ruler. I can make things very pleasant for you. My realm might lack frills, might seem dark, cold, and unappealing at first glance, but there is pleasure here—great pleasure. My world holds delights beyond the imagination, granted to you by the miserable life you led. In your brief years under the sun, you ate slop; I will feed you banquets of exotic beasts and birds. You drank muddy water; I will satisfy your thirst with wines, beers, and liquors the likes of which you’ve never dreamed possible. I’ll see you have servants, your own kingdom, a castle built to your liking. In life, you had but one woman. I will grant you thousands to use and discard as you please. Each day will be filled with the joy of battle followed by nights of drunken pleasures. This will be your eternity if . . . you help me find that key.”
Tesh could see her. She was the light, and looking at the queen hurt. Her features were sharp and beautiful. As he watched, her razor-thin lips frowned, and he felt as if something squeezed his heart.
“Should you choose to deny me this small thing, your future will be less than pleasant. Sebek has requested that you be given to him, asked that you be shackled as his slave for that same unending amount of time. Apparently, he has plans for the two of you, plots he hasn’t even shared with me. But I can guess. Knowing him as I do, you won’t experience a dull moment.”
The queen came closer, and as she did, the oppressive light returned, crushing him. “Tell me, Tesh. Where is the key?”
There was no resisting her, no gritting his teeth and enduring the pain. This wasn’t a matter of his spirit standing fast against the tortures of the body. He had none. This was a bare-knuckled war of wills, and in a contest with Ferrol, Tesh came up short.
Reduced to a puddle before her, he blurted out, “Tressa . . . Tressa has it . . . It’s on a chain around her neck.”
“He’s lying,” one of those around him said—a human with a thick black beard and a bearskin cloak. “And I could have told you that’s what he’d say. They all hate my wife. Despise her. No way they’d let her have the thing, but of course, she’s the first one he’d give up.”
“Is that true, Tesh?” The light bore down hard, causing him to make noises he never thought he could. “Are you being tricky? Are you capable of resisting me? Did you lie?”
Tesh couldn’t have answered if he wanted to. At a certain point, when pain became too great to bear, he had always passed out. That wasn’t happening this time. The pain kept increasing, and he knew it would never stop. There would be no unconsciousness, not even a release through death. He cried and screamed, but the pain was always there. Nothing would make it go away, not ever.