Chapter 20
They surged through Elarion, swift as the winds that howled over northern peaks. The trees whispered in voices only the old gods could decipher, their leaves shimmering with an unnatural glow. Pale figures drifted above the path, their delicate forms beckoning with silent song, eyes like liquid silver promising wonders untold. Aeris barely had time to marvel before a rough hand pressed her head downward.
"Don't look up," Zerek ordered, his voice a guttural command against the eerie hum of the land. His horse tore through the ancient trail, heedless of the magic weaving through the air.
Strange creatures slithered onto the path, their bellies scraping the earth, their bodies glittering like jewels forged in fire—sapphires, diamonds, precious stones given life. Yet Zerek did not falter. His roar split the stillness, something dark and primal shifting within him, unraveling into pure menace. His presence alone sent the Feries scurrying back into the shadows, their delicate beauty folding into fear.
Then it was over.
The sky stretched wide, shifting from the deep, ashy blue of Elarion to the blinding gold of the real world, where the sun reigned without enchantment. The oppressive heat bore down on them, as if the magic had been nothing but an illusion.
Aeris shoved at Zerek's chest, every ounce of strength poured into the motion. "Let me down," she demanded, her voice biting but quiet.
Zerek barely reacted, her push no more than a breath against muscle. "Let you down to what—walk?" His voice dripped with amusement as he slowed his horse to a trot, waiting for his warriors to catch up.
Aeris scowled, resentment burning like embers beneath her skin, but the beast of a man had already turned his attention elsewhere.
The hundred warriors rode on, their horses kicking up dust, turning the cracked earth into a swirling haze. Aeris scanned her surroundings. Nothing but barren land stretched infinitely before her. Sand and stone, an unforgiving wilderness. She turned back to the riders, searching, but found no spare horse among them.
"Why did you send my horse back?" She shoved at Zerek again, frustration seeping into her voice. "I would rather walk until my legs bleed than ride with you."
She barely had time to draw breath before Zerek shoved her. His hand pressed against her head, forcing her clean off the horse. The world tilted then the ground met her in a brutal embrace. Pain exploded through her body, rattling her bones. She sucked in air, blinking against the sting of tears that threatened to spill, willing them away. Slowly, she turned, fixing him with a glare.
Zerek leaned forward, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "What?" he mused, his voice laced with mockery. "You said you wanted to walk. Did you think I would stop you?"
He watched her like a predator toying with its prey. "In fact, I want to see your feet bleed. I want to see them crack and split. I want to see how long you'll look at me with those defiant eyes before they start to beg and cry."
He laughed, shoulders shaking, his amusement rolling through the hot, barren air like the distant rumble of a storm. Aeris saw it now. Her suffering was his delight, a thing he savored. He wanted her weak, wanted her desperate enough to plead. But he would get nothing from her.
She rose with practiced grace, swallowing down the pain that curled in her limbs. Dust clung to the hem of her blue gown as she took her first steps. It did not matter that she did not know the way to Skaldur. It did not matter that returning to Duskari meant braving Elarion again, that cursed land where magic twisted into menace. She just had to move—anywhere that took her far from Zerek, that mad dog.
He did not call her back, did not acknowledge her departure, simply continued speaking to his men as they reached him. It was Marlik who called after her. "You're going the wrong way, little princess Aeris," he teased.
"I don't care!" she shouted, not bothering to turn, her pace quickening. Distance, that was all she wanted. Distance from Zerek, from his cruelty, from everything that tied her to this fate. "There are beasts in this desert, little princess Aeris—real monsters." Marlik's voice carried a hint of warning, but Aeris only scoffed.
"I'm sure there are," she said, "but there is one among you, and I'd rather take my chances with the other." She didn't hesitate. She turned and ran, kicking up dust beneath her feet, her gown catching on the dry air as she sped toward the unknown. Whatever beast lurked in the wilderness, she would face it. Anything was better than remaining near Zerek, that mad dog.
"Bring her back," Zerek commanded, but Aeris did not falter. She ran until the ground beneath her shifted, an unnatural pull tightening around her ankles. She stumbled, looking down, her breath catching. The sand swirled, slow and tight, dragging her downward no matter how she struggled. She had heard of this, Soren had called it quicksand, a silent predator lying in wait. She had walked straight into its trap.
"Stuck already?" Zerek's voice cut through the dry wind as he rode closer, his horse stopping just at the edge of the sinking pit. He leaned forward, resting easily in the saddle, amusement glinting in his eyes.
Aeris glared at him, her fury a fire that refused to dim.
"Need any help?" His grin widened, wicked, knowing.
"From you? Never." She spat the words, defiant even as the sand pulled her further down. She struggled again, refusing to yield, even as the desert itself conspired against her.
"Oh?" Zerek's voice was maddeningly indifferent, watching as the sand pulled Aeris deeper, swallowing her inch by inch. Every struggle worked against her, dragging her further into its grasp. Soren had never told her what to do if she found herself caught in quicksand, perhaps he had never imagined she would be anywhere he was not. The thought was a dagger to the chest, familiar in its ache. She had sworn she'd outgrown that tightness in her throat, but as her eyes stung, she knew she hadn't.
She stopped fighting when only her chest remained above the surface, breath coming in shallow bursts. Her gaze found Zerek again flanked now by Marlik and his men, a wall of warriors watching her demise as if it were a game. The bastard wasn't going to help. He would watch her drown, sand filling her lungs, rather than lift a single finger in her aid.
Did he truly delight in her suffering so much?
Zerek arched a brow at her, amused. "Given up already?"
"Just get me out of this thing!" She barked with desperation.
"No." His answer was cold, final.
Fury burned through her. "Did you bring me here just to die? How will you explain it to my father—to my brothers? Do you want war between our tribes?"
He let out a slow, thoughtful nod. "Very much so." The admission was unflinching. "So, will you keep struggling and make this easy for me? Or will you beg?" His tone was light, teasing. "If I find your begging to be… entertaining, I might reconsider."
Aeris clenched her jaw, the sinking earth tightening around her, the weight of humiliation pressing alongside it. She would die here before she let him have the satisfaction.
"Shut up. Go away. I don't want to look at you." Her voice cracked, hoarse with defiance and despair, but the words barely made it past the tight knot in her throat. To her horror, tears began to gather, blurring the edge of her vision. She blinked furiously, but the heat and helplessness made it impossible to stop. It was all too much—too cruel, too unfair. How had it come to this? Trapped in the middle of a burning desert, at the mercy of a man who enjoyed watching her suffer?
"You're already crying," Zerek said, leaning his weight casually against the saddle horn, his smirk deepening. "Now all that's left to do is beg."
Aeris shook her head, blinking harder. She would not. Let the tears fall, fine, but she would not beg him. He didn't deserve the sound of her desperation, not even if it could save her.
"Just beg, little princess," came Marlik's voice, unusually gentle. "There are things that crawl in the sand… and they could eat your legs."
Her breath caught. The image came instantly. Slick, venomous things sliding up into her boots, gnawing through leather, flesh, and bone. Her skin crawled at the thought, and suddenly she could feel them—phantom sensations—scraping, wriggling, waiting.
Her heart thundered in panic. "Just get me out of this—please!" The words cracked, spilling out in a panic she hadn't meant to show. She hadn't even heard herself say them, hadn't thought, just spoken.
Zerek laughed, a deep, rich sound that only deepened Aeris's humiliation. "You beg so pretty," he mused before sliding off his horse with unhurried ease. The ground crunched beneath his boots as he strode forward, stopping just at the edge of the quicksand. He extended a hand. "Give me your hand."
Aeris glared up at him, her vision blurred with tears.
"Or not." Zerek pulled his hand back, his smirk widening as her heart seized with panic.
"Here! Get me out now!" She flung her hand forward, desperate for him to take it.
He didn't.
"On one condition," he said, raising a single finger.
Her lips trembled. "What?"
"You behave yourself until we reach Skaldur. No drama. No tantrums."
Every vile curse Aeris had ever learned flashed through her mind, each one sharper than the last, words that would make Selene gasp in horror. Zerek must have sensed it, because his grin stretched even wider, dark amusement pooling in his gaze.
"Do you accept?" he asked.
"I accept, you—" She hadn't even finished before Zerek's grip closed around her wrist, and with nothing but the strength of his arm, he hoisted her from the sand. The world tilted—then her feet met solid ground once more.
She stumbled, breath uneven, resentment burning in her chest like embers refusing to die.