The Bone Thief's Tale by Heleen Davies

Author:Heleen Davies [Davies, Heleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-14T05:00:00+00:00

As I returned to the guest room, I smelled a scent. Myrtle and smoke. All my muscles tensed as I rushed to the door, pressing the handle with ice-cold fingers. The room was dark, pitch dark but the window was open. Everything screamed magic. I shut the door and placed myself against it, trying to keep anything dangerous in and everything I cared for out.

"Well, well, well."

When I heard the Blood Queen's voice, I winced and searched the dark room. My eyes were used to the bright world now and I saw nothing for a few seconds until she raised her elegant hand and made a tiny ball of fire dance on her fingers. It hopped from the left to the right. The faint light illuminated her face and gave me a close look at her smirking mouth. There was nothing but pleasure on her face.

"I can't stay long, darling," she purred. "Normally I'm not allowed to be here, but thanks to your bone I'm capable of a lot."

She walked up to me and her emerald green dress swung gently around her thighs, showing me her hour-glass figure. Then she shot forward, and raised her hand, showing me a smothering fire between her fingers. I staggered back, looking at her other hand. Bory. She had Bory and he was unconscious!

"Leave him alone," I gritted through my teeth.

"Oh," she grinned, and looked at Bory. "Not so fast. I'm just here to remind you why you're here."

I swallowed and felt the sweat run down my neck and my stomach tightened. "I know that, your Highness."

"Apparently not!" she said, but then she relaxed her face noticeably and crackled her neck. "You must kiss him, not stare him to death!"

"I—I know… your Highness!"

"Then make it happen, you need forever, and I’m bored. You know what's at stake, don't you?"

I nodded and tried to push the lump down my throat.

The Blood Queen smiled, shook her head, and came at me. The fire shot from her hand, leaving a trail of smoke behind. She then grabbed my throat with her cold fingers and pain shot through my whole body, as if she had stabbed me with thousands of tiny knives. I felt the stinging everywhere. The heat rushed through me, and I had a sudden need to scratch me everywhere at once. I screamed, but my cry died at my throat when she put an image in my head. She forced herself into my mind as if it were an open door for her.

Shadow slavery.

It was pitch black again, it stank of sulphur and rotten eggs, and I was naked, stripped of my body—only a shadow remained. I felt nothing but pain and was doomed to do the lowly work for the queens and the king. Sewing clothes out of blood and shadows and ashes. Making food from embers, dust, and dirt, to transform them with stolen magic that was not supposed to be used by shadows. The magic rushed through my body and ate me up until there was nothing of my shadowy body left and then…

It started all over again.

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