Dragon Rising 4 by Dante King

Author:Dante King [King, Dante]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

She looked as if she hadn’t risen from the chair since she arrived. Thick vines of plantlike material lashed her to the throne, covered in patches of mold and small fruiting bodies. Her eyes were closed, her face deathlike pale—so much so that several of John’s women let out gasps as if the woman were dead in truth.

Fringilla no longer looked like a woman. She was barely recognizable as a person.

Her beady eyes opened as John approached. Despite the level of degradation visible all over her, those eyes were clear and cold. Whatever happened to Fringilla’s body, her mind was free and sharp.

“John Devonte.” As Fringilla spoke, a grinding noise filled the room. It sounded as if it emanated from the walls themselves. It took John several moments to realize that what he was hearing was laughter. “I never thought to see you again. The fates are strange, are they not?”

“Strange indeed,” John said, giving the throne a hard look. “What are you doing in the realm of demons, Fringilla?”

The walls reverberated with more of that strange, unearthly laughter. “Waiting for you, of course,” the woman rasped. Despite the weakness of her throat, her words were perfectly clear in that strange place as if she spoke next to the ear of every person in attendance. “I’m not unhappy to see you, John Devonte.”

“You should be,” John shot back. His hand went to his broken, enchanted blade. “You are an intruder here.”

“As are you,” the woman said as cool as a cucumber. “I know what you’re thinking, Devonte. You will kill me for what I did to you inside my Manor. But were it not for the knowledge I gave you, you would never have learned the truth of the Draconic Emperor’s power. You would still be in the dark regarding your own heritage.”

It was a fair point. “And?”

Fringilla spread her arms. That simple gesture should not have been horrifying, but given the circumstances, it was. Mushrooms clung to her limbs like barnacles, weighing them down as she welcomed him to her inner sanctum.

“You owe me,” Fringilla said. Despite the mold and fungus covering her features, John could see her smirk. “More than that, you know I can give you more visions. So you won’t lay a finger on me—”

Nemissa stepped out from behind John.

John expected some measure of surprise from Fringilla, seeing as she’d been both Nemissa Frostbane’s servant and lover.

Instead, as she laid eyes on Nemissa, Fringilla went from shock into outright terror. Her arms hugged her tightly, using the mold and fungus covering her like a suit of armor as she screeched.

“And me?” Nemissa asked, pursing her pouty lips. “Do I owe you as well, Fringilla? Or would it be more proper to say that you owe me?”

To John’s surprise, the woman didn’t respond to Nemissa directly. Instead, she turned her glowing yellow eyes to John, the orbs filling with an emotion akin to sympathy.

“She has corrupted you!” the fungus woman shouted—ironic, considering who was doing the shouting.

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