The Master and The Marionette (The Pawn and The Puppet series Book 2)

The Master and The Marionette: Chapter 48



I have an infection that needs tending to. Like I fell off my bike and scraped up my knee, then let the dirt and gravel snuggle into its new home. I want to clean it out, I want to bandage it up and start the road to recovery. But theres no time. No time at all. And I dont want to tell someone that theres a deeply rooted infection taking hold of my ability to gather strength and stay focused. Its not something you talk about out loud. You keep it to yourself. You bury it in a cell like a criminal thats done unspeakable things to innocent people. Because talking about it would make other people uncomfortable, and if youre making them uncomfortable, then that makes the infection much worse. It makes it harder to pretend that its not there.

My infection is a devastating rope of fear looped around my neck. I dont want to go back to the people that made me believe I had broken bones, endometriosis, or kidney stones. These people violated me. These people made me believe I was a prisoner for four months. I never want to experience anything like that again. Id rather die. If it were to happen again, Id go with DaiSzek to Ambrose Oasis and I wouldnt come back.

But its too late to speak up, not that I would. I want DaiSzek back just as much as Dessin and Kane. I feel a constant stinging in my chest at the thought of never seeing him again. But more than that, if they do anything to hurt that glorious friend of mine, I will kill them all myself. The rage boiling inside me is enough to wipe out a continent.

We stand before the great Emerald Lake Mountain, about to enter the underground entrance. Dessin is in a foul mood, and I dont dare try to calm him down. I cant imagine how hes processing this. He just got me back, only to lose his beloved friend too.

We live in a malicious world.

Walking toward the iron gates of the mountain tunnel, I stop to look back at Dessin who is staring at something in the trees.

Whats wrong?” I ask. But I see it, standing behind a veil of ivy. The tall, lean man that I met near the tree house. Forest boy. Brown glistening skin, long golden hair, with moss and leaves covering his private area.

Which man are you?” The voice of thunder and sandpaper stops the group from moving.

Dessin.”

The mans bare chest is slick with sweat. He nods his head once. Come.

No one moves. Even Warrose looks back and forth between us like were missing something.

I have what you need for what you plan.”

Warrose leans into Dessin. Hes one of the Naiadales. The Emerald Lake people.”

But Dessin already knows this. He starts to approach the man, so I follow. One hand stops me. Stay here. Ill hear what he has to say alone.”

I want to argue, but the man said for what you plan. Meaning Im not supposed to know. I give a reluctant nod as he joins Forest Boy behind a cluster of trees and vines. Its only a few minutes before hes walking back to me, tucking something into his pack.

We meet again when you are ready,” the Naiadales man says to me before disappearing into the forest.

I open my mouth to speak to Dessin.

Dont ask because you know I cant tell you.”

Warrose nudges me with his bulky shoulder. Hes so sweet in the mornings, isnt he?

Dessin and I lead the group through the gates that lead to a hallway underground, with antique chandelier light fixtures lit by candles, rosewood walls, and rib vault ceilings. The vintage northwest rug runner cushions our steps from echoing. With the waft the air vents bring, I catch hints of pink pepper, ginger, and sandalwood, much like the aroma of a wealthy man. Spicy and loaded with wealth.

Were going to be fine,” Dessin assures me. Im sure he can practically smell my fear, like an extra sense he might not quite understand. I have something to trade. Something that will ensure everyones safety.” His confidence gives me more comfort than I thought it would. I trust in his judgment more than that spike of fear prickling under my skin. He touches the small of my back with his finger, and I cant hold the shiver from breaking out across my body.

You leave the talking to me. Well get him back. I promise you. Well get him back.”

I nod, unable to respond with my voice. Its tucked away for the moment. Scared to come out and mess up any part of his plans. I dont know who were meeting or if well even be able to see the leader of Demechnef. Someone Albatross and Absinthe feared. He probably smells like this hallway, like old money and expensive booze.

I glance behind me and notice my friends walking awkwardly close together, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, like knives might shoot out from the walls and impale them at any given moment. And no one wants to be left at the back of the line. Except Warrose, who is keeping his pace slow and predatory, daring a threat to attack the group. Ready for a fight. Itching for the violence.

Like a magnetic pull, my hand wants to reach for Dessin. The fear that holds me down is becoming lighter and less prominent as I watch him walk like an undefeated warrior. Owning everything. Time stopping at his convenience. The cloak of confidence drags behind him. I cant help but succumb to my mesmerization by this man that stands tall and walks proudly into a chamber of powerful people and dangerous weapons. A territory of conspiracy and pain.

A few minutes later and were walking through a common area of soldiers, businessmen, savants. All men. No women. No surprise. They look at me like Im breathing underwater or flying without wings.

The hallway grows wider, opening up into a common area, with the same rib vaults, cherrywood floors and no runner rug. At first I think the eyes are on me, gawking like theyd been shot by a poisonous arrow. Alarmed and unsure if they should run, fight, or hide. I follow their petrified stares, pointed at Dessin. They look at him like… the king has returned home. I didnt notice it at first, but once you see it, you cant unsee it. Hes either an idol or a raging mad tyrant that no one dares to stand up to. Some men step out of the way as we pass, some fall against the glossy walls like they never expected in their lifetime that theyd ever live to see the day hed come back.

Hes a walking plague, and every inch of this vicinity holds its breath.

An important member of this organization leads us into a private room. Oily face, cleanly shaved, sleepy eyes, and thickly built. He doesnt seem as afraid of Dessin as the rest of them, but he certainly isnt wanting to stick around us much longer.

We wait inside a private room, a single walnut ball and claw desk. It has a dark-brown leather top, and gold antique-colored tooling. Theres an antique oil lamp on the left corner, a scotch-filled crystal decanter with three matching glasses. The rest of the room is gently lit by oil lamps mounted on the surrounding walls. The soft light reflects through Dessins eyes like two tiny glowing orbs floating in his pupils. No windows because were buried inside a mountain. I take in a controlled breath and am stunned by the smell of coffee, scotch, and cigarettes. All very potent, mixed together in the air to concoct something stale and old.

I cant believe how much I did not miss this place.” Warrose leans against the back wall, toying with a knife.

Theres something we havent told you yet,” Dessin says delicately, placing the sentence an inch under his breath.

What is it?”

Dessin closes his eyes slowly. Because we wanted you to see it for yourself…”

The second door to the left of the desk cracks open, only showing a sliver of darkness and a hand resting on its handle. My peripherals catch Dessin raising his chin in reaction to the hand, challenging the dominant shift. And theres a sinking feeling in the bed of my stomach, a nausea wave that inches up my throat. Its that feeling that youre about to catch someone in a lie, about to swing open a door to expose a personal betrayal.

Dessins body is tense as if hes preparing himself for an explosion or spontaneous combustion. As tangible as a cloud of thick smoke, I can practically breathe in his anticipation. My heart begins to rattle, clench, bang under the bone wall in my chest.

The door suddenly opens the rest of the way, and a tall man emerges from the slither of darkness, followed by three other men. But I dont waste another moment looking at them. Dessin turns his head completely to face me, watching for my reaction with discomfort. My eyes flicker in panic from Dessin to the first man. And like a bolt of lightning shooting down from a massive thunderstorm directly into my chest, I fall to my knees with a bunk. My lips are separated and drying up as I suck in oxygen like the air is running thin. I choke on my own harsh gasp.

No fucking way.

Youre back. I was worried I might have scared you away.” That voice. That familiar, horrible voice. And those pale-blue eyes topped with black, perfectly arched eyebrows. The angelic porcelain face. The face that was once my friend. My only resource to starting my life over.

What are—you doing—here?!” I stutter, clutching my hands to the cold hardwood floor.

Skylenna…” Dessins voice comes from above me. His hand squeezing the cap of my shoulder. This is the leader of our country.”

Silence. Cold claws cut into my spine and drag down my back. This isnt real.

Dessin clears his throat with disgust.

This is Aurick Demechnef.”

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