“What do you know of Haruspicy?” he asked, giving the blade an experimental swing.
“What?”
“Haruspicy, you dumb fuck. It’s an ancient, dark branch of necromancy magic. Certain practitioners can read the future and gain secret knowledge by reading the spilled entrails of a sacrificial animal.” He pointed the blade at me, and flashed that manic and psychotic smile again. “The odds are very low, sure, but I know people who travel in dark circles. I bet I could find someone to give it a try on you. As far as I’ve heard, it’s never been tried on a shifter. Usually, only goats and sheep and cow calves, but I bet it would be fun to give it a go.”
He pressed the blade against my stomach. My balls shriveled, contracting against my body at the feel of the metal.
“I wonder what we might see in the guts of a dragon prince? Huh?”
“Enough, Bastien. You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to stop.”
Flinching as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Bastien dropped the knife and spun around. Lady Gabrielle Laurent stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, and her mouth twisted in disapproval.
“Mother? I was just?-“
“About to slice his stomach open and spill his innards all over the floor,” she said dryly. “Yes, I heard. I’ve been standing in the hall waiting for you to succeed. It looks as though our friend Prince Decimus is made of heartier things than most dragons.”
“No,” Bastien cried. “He’s not. I can break him, I swear.”
Gabrielle raised a reproachful eyebrow at her son.
“Bastien, your father and I have overlooked your proclivity for torture. We both know that our house must be led by the strongest. That doesn’t mean we will allow you to ruin what’s to come.”
“But-“
“No buts.” She pointed at me. “We need him alive for the public execution. We need to label him a terrorist. It’s the only way to garner enough support for our cause.”
Bastien grunted in disgust and waved a hand through the air. “We don’t need the fae or other shifters. We’re strong enough alone.”
“I wish that were true, Bastien. The problem is that we do need their support.”
The Frozen Death Bastein had injected into me was finally dissipating, and the agony faded enough that I could actually try to concentrate on the interaction between mother and son.
“The fae control most of the magic in the world. We have a few small wellsprings in our possession, but the fae watch over most. We all know how symbiotic their relationship with the wellsprings is. Could we force them to help us? Of course, but there is a chance the magic within the wellsprings could weaken or-God forbid-turn against us. Especially with the Hikshil tribe. We need the other magical races to believe Aurelius Decimus attacked us and killed our men in an unwarranted attack. We’ve laid that groundwork with the death of the fae seer at the ceremony, but we have to follow through. Having this man die alone in a cell will not have the same gravitas as a public execution. Your father and I will not allow you to play with your toy only to ruin our chances of full control.”
The muscles in Bastien’s jaw rippled as he ground his teeth together. He then jammed his thumb into his own chest.
“Am I or am Inot the leader of this house? Father stepped down and bestowed the rights upon me. True?”
Gabrielle inclined her head. “You are officially the head of our house, but your father and I are still advisors. We must temper the heat of youth. Basically, we have to save you from yourself until you are experienced enough to handle these things on your own. There is nothing legally binding you to following our assistance, but I would highly recommend you do.”
Bastien glanced from his mother to me, and let out a low wolfish growl. In the next instant, he threw the blade at me. The metal pinwheeled and whizzed past my ear before the curved tip buried itself in the drywall a few feet behind me. Despite myself, a trembling sigh escaped my lips.
“Your lucky day, lizard boy,” Bastien said.
A moment later, an overwhelming pressure suddenly built within my veins, surging up from all across my body in a torturous white-hot blast. I felt like I was going to explode into a cloud of white-hot steam. I tried to scream, but only a strangled moan escaped me.
“Shit,” Bastien said. “It’s the potion. Sometimes it kills the subject when it has run its course. I was going to call in a healer when I was done, but then you showed up. I forgot.”
“You seem to forget a lot, son of mine,” Gabrielle said. She put her head out the door. “Healers! Now!”
I opened my mouth, desperate to scream or cry out, but the pain was worse than anything before. Nothing had ever been so awful. It only took a few seconds for me to begin wishing for death.
The healers rushed in with syringes and vials of magical remedies, scurrying around me like ants on a freshly dead corpse.
“Make sure he lives,” Gabrielle said. “If he dies, you will all be held responsible.”
Gray fuzz crowded the periphery of my vision, tunneling until all I could make out were Bastien and Gabrielle’s shoes. A moment before I passed out from the pain, I had one fleeting hope. That this might earn me a small reprieve. A little time to recover my strength and wits before they executed me. I wanted to meet my end with my head held high, not as some feeble thing they had to drag out.
“Come on. Take a drink,” Elle said.
Eyes fluttering open, I found her kneeling above me. All the aches and pains in my body had vanished. Rather than hanging from the ceiling, I now lay on a soft, warm bed. She held a cup of water toward me. I sat up and drank greedily.
“Bro, you had us scared,” Rasp said from my right where he was bandaging a wound on my arm.
To my right, he was winding a gauze around some kind of wound on my arm.
“How did I get here? Where…”
“You’re at the castle,” Vince said and handed Rasp a roll of medical tape. “You’re safe now.”
I glanced around. “I am?”
“You are, boy,” Dad said. “You put a hell of a scare into us.”
Elle gave me another drink and ran her fingers through my hair. “It’s gonna be fine.”
My shoulders relaxed at her touch, and relief flooded through me.
“God damn he’s heavy,” Rasp said, still wrapping my arm.
“What?” I glanced at him.
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