Queen of Monsters and Madness

by Frost Kay

  Sage obeyed the tug on her hair as she was forced to meet his cruel, soulless gaze. “This is how you should always be. On your knees.”

  That was it. She couldn’t move because of the hand in her hair, but she still had use of her hands. Clutching her rock, she licked her bloody lips, knowing he’d follow the motion, and slammed the pointy rock into the side of his knee. His eyes widened, and his mouth parted in a bellow right before she received a kick to the gut. She flew backward, her breath rushing out of her. Her shoulders slammed into the ground, and her feet tumbled over her head.

  She coughed, trying to get air into her screaming lungs as she brushed her hair from her face. Pain was everywhere. Sage pushed up from the ground and grimaced as a large hand snaked around her waist and pulled her from the forest floor. Rhys struggled with three warriors, trying to get to her. She bared her bloody teeth at him in a smug smile.

  He strained harder against the arms restraining him, the veins in his neck bulging. “You’re dead! I’ll kill you! You’re dead,” he screamed.

  A crazed laugh bubbled up from her belly. “I died in that cell. There’s nothing left to kill.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” the leader muttered next to her ear. “Look at what you’ve wrought.”

  Sage’s smile faded as she truly looked at Rhys. His whole body shuddered, and it was almost as if he had grown in size. Something had shifted in his eyes. She slammed into the hard chest behind her when his bloodshot, feral eyes clashed into her own. The rage-filled man she’d come to know was nothing like the wild beast in front of her now.

  His teeth gnashed, spittle flying through the air as he bellowed, “Mark my words, you’ll pay.”

  One of the warriors pushed a flask against his mouth and another pinched his nose. He fought harder, spewing the brew everywhere. Sage watched in horror as liquid and drool dripped down his chin, and he mouthed, “You’re mine.”

  She trembled in the leader’s arms for a few minutes as the wild glint in Rhys’ eyes died and his usual soulless gaze returned. He growled at the men and jerked his arms from their grasp. Rhys shook himself and sneered in her direction, before limping to his horse and swinging up into the saddle like nothing happened.

  “Let’s go,” he commanded, like he wasn’t losing blood each second.

  She turned her face and leaned her cheek against the warm chest behind her, shuddering. What was he?

  “I warned you not to push him.”

  “Not well enough,” she pushed out between chattering teeth. They always did that when she became scared or excited. “What was that?”

  “Berserker rage. If those men had not held him back, he would’ve torn you apart, woman. I keep thinking you’ve learned your lesson, and yet you keep rebelling. You’re lucky today. If you try that with the warlord, he’ll kill you. No one will stop him. Your death will be senseless. Be smart. Try to survive.”

  Sage pulled herself from the leader, took shaky steps away from him, and turned to look at him with a raised brow. “Why?” Why was he looking after her?

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Women are rare. You’re worth more alive.”

  “Indeed,” she muttered, and turned her back to the leader. Jasmine had managed to stand, but still clutched her ribs, her face a map of pain.

  “Are more broken?” Sage asked with worry.

  “I’m sure. I got kicked by my brother’s horse when I was younger. I know what it feels like.”

  “Beasts,” she spat.

  “After that display, I don’t doubt it.” Jasmine’s voice wobbled on the end, betraying her fear.

  Sage slipped her hand into her friend’s, giving strength as much as receiving it. It was a comfort to have someone in which to share the poor circumstances. “We’re in this together.”

  “Together.”

  She thought they were going over the hill.

  She was wrong.

  She stopped, confused as to why they weren’t moving up the hill. Her confusion doubled when the warriors stopped next to an enormous rock and pushed. Her eyes rounded as they revealed a black hole in the side of the hill, a gaping maw which could devour them.

  “Where does that lead?” she asked. No one answered. Wherever it was, it was not somewhere she wanted to be.

  One by one, they entered the black hole and disappeared. A calloused hand wrapped around her bicep. She winced at the tight hold and leaned away from its owner.

  “Don’t cause trouble or you’ll regret it,” Rhys threatened.

  Her skin prickled at his proximity, and her heart galloped. He was unhinged; it was boiling right under the surface. Sage dipped her head in a respectful way, she hoped, and wished he would release her throbbing arm.

  “Good.”

  He let go of her abruptly, almost upsetting her balance, but she’d prepared for it. Rhys had a way of being predictable when it came to his abuse. She lifted her eyes to catch the leader’s; the small dip of his chin sparked anger inside her. She neither needed nor wanted his approval. She just wanted to stay alive.

  The warriors took up formation, surrounding and ushering them toward the opening. Jasmine’s hand clenched in Sage’s.

  “I don’t like this. It’s a cave!”

  “Me neither.”

  They fell silent as the opening loomed before them. Sage finally let go of any hope she’d harbored for a rescue as they entered the dark.

  No one would find them here.

  Sage

  The grating sound of stone against stone etched into her mind.

  There was no escaping the inky darkness.

  She blinked repeatedly, trying to help her eyes adjust. Someone pushed her from behind and her right shoulder slammed against something cool, wet, and rough. She pressed her hand to the cave wall and ran her fingers over its surface. Porous stone, similar to that which was beneath the Aermian castle. Were they close to the sea here?

  Another shove forced her to abandon her exploration and shuffle forward in the pitch black, every step a gamble.

  “It’s so dark in here, I literally cannot see my hand in front of my face.” Jasmine’s voice grumped from her left.

  Sage’s lips twitched. Jas seemed to have an uncanny ability to lighten the mood without trying.

  As they trekked through the dark, the air of what she assumed was a passage slowly heated from the press of so many bodies and sweat. She paused for a moment to help Jasmine, only to have a very large, hot, sweaty body press against her back. She skittered away, dragging the brunette with her. Deep masculine laughter rumbled around them and her cheeks heated further, both in embarrassment and anger.

  Jas squeaked in outrage. “Who was that?” the brunette demanded.

  “What?”

  “Someone touched me.”

  More laughter.

  The women huddled closer together as the dark seemed to escalate their fear. The dark was both oppressing and unnerving. It made them too vulnerable.

  “Enough.”

  One word, and the laughter stopped. The press of bodies around them seemed to lessen. Her breath whistled out from between her clenched teeth; she was thankful the leader had command of his men.

  After walking for a while, she lost all sense of direction as well as time. The only thing she could discern was that they seemed to be descending, her legs and thighs burning from the slope. Her brows furrowed when she detected faint traces of light, which brightened their surroundings bit by bit. She blinked a few more times as the outlines of the men surrounding her became visible. Something cracked underneath her foot. She paused and squinted at the floor.

  Bones.

  Jasmine followed her gaze and yelped, pulling them to the side. “Is that…a skeleton?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “It’s what happens to those who run away.” Rhys’ voice slithered over them.

  Sage grimly stared at the skeleton. That had been someone. It had once been a living, breathing human being, maybe even with a family. Before sh
e could stop herself, she asked, “Why?”

  “He was hunted down, hobbled, and then let free,” the leader replied.

  She finally tore her gaze from the bones. “Free?”

  “Free to run until the leren caught him.”

  “Leren?” Jas asked.

  “The man-eater that almost killed you that first day in the forest.”

  Chills ran up Sage’s arms when she thought of the giant black jungle cats that had tracked them through their entire journey. “You let them run free here?”

  “No,” Rhys whispered in her ear. “We ration their food until another source presents itself.”

  “You starve them until you want them to hunt someone?” she asked, her tone flat. Just when she thought they couldn’t get more barbaric, they got worse.

  “They love to hunt prey that runs from them,” the leader supplied. “Let’s move on.”

  Sick to her stomach, Sage carefully stepped over the bones with Jas plastered to her side. She shivered at the thought of being hunted in the maze of dark tunnels. Disgust gave way to hysteria, and a giggle slipped out. How fitting. The stone was as black as the Scythians’ souls.

  Jasmine looked at her askance.

  “Nothing,” she muttered, and stamped down the hysterical thoughts bubbling up inside her. If she let go now, she’d probably come unhinged.

  The group snaked around a corner, and her steps faltered as light poured through a wide doorway. When she saw what lay beyond it, she stopped short. It was a phenomenon unlike anything she’d ever seen. The doorway led to a massive open cavern that hosted what looked to be an entire city, carved from the black stone. Sage squinted, barely able to make out the filthy people scuttling about the curved lanes, carrying all sorts of tools. Lanterns cast a sickly, yellow glow over them and she suppressed a gasp. Were those chain slaves?

  “Move on.”

  The leader jostled her forward, and just like that, she was swept away from the strange underground city. A thousand questions were at the tip of her tongue, but she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t like they would answer her anyway.

  The stone hallway twisted left then right, and at the far end were two enormous wooden doors into which symbols had been charred. Four giant men guarded the door, their bare, muscled skin painted with those same symbols. She shivered as their dark eyes zeroed in on her and Jasmine. It wasn’t sexual, but they looked at the girls with unveiled curiosity, as if they were some sort of exhibit.

  In unison, the guards bowed and pulled open the doors. Her lids slammed shut at the sudden burst of light. One eye at a time, she cracked them and forced herself to move through the doors.

  She squinted, the bright light blinding her. Everything was white. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made from white stone polished so brightly she could practically see her reflection. The bare walls sloped into high arched ceilings and the entire place felt cold, empty.

  Sage looked behind her just as the doors thudded closed. She blinked. From this side, the door was invisible. The only thing that gave it away was a fine line where the stone didn’t quite touch, allowing the doors to glide smoothly.

  Her attention was pulled to the floor when she noticed garish scarlet footprints that marred the pristine beauty of the floor behind her. Something about it raised the hair of the back of her neck. She tracked the bloody footprints to her own feet.

  “Rhys,” a woman greeted.

  Her head snapped up. She hadn’t heard the woman arrive. She couldn’t afford slips like this. Time to focus.

  The woman’s body was cloaked in furs, with daggers strapped to her thighs. When combined with her lithe, toned body, she was even more a warrior than Sage ever was. She scanned the strong features she’d learned were typical of the Scythians: sharp cheekbones, straight nose, and coal black hair. She paused when she met a shrewd, caramel gaze.

  “This is the one?” the woman asked as she moved through the warriors and to Sage, stopping a pace away. Her eyes scanned Sage from head to toe, then back up. She cocked a hip and pursed her lips in a way that betokened disapproval.

  Sage tipped her chin up. She’d be damned if she let some random woman intimidate her. Her body was in bad shape, but no one would make her feel ashamed for it; it wasn’t even her fault. She eyed the woman as she circled her, and turned just enough to keep her back from the woman.

  The Scythian female paused and raised a brow. “You’re smart not to turn your back to me. Although…” She scanned her body again. “It seems you were not always smart.”

  Jasmine shifted by her side, an aggravated gesture. Sage grabbed her friend’s wrist and squeezed. They couldn’t afford rebellion.

  The woman noticed the gestured and grinned. “It seems she has manners.”

  Sage stiffened.

  “She needed training,” Rhys replied, his face a mask of smugness.

  “Indeed,” she drawled in her slight accent.

  “Where is he, Maeve?”

  “The throne room, where else?”

  “Of course.”

  The woman smiled with fondness at Rhys. Sage blinked, surprised. No one liked him.

  “If you release the women into my care, I’ll clean them up before you present them to the warlord.”

  “No, he needs to see them now.”

  The woman’s eyes widened slightly before she schooled her reaction. “Do you think that wise?”

  “You think to counsel me?”

  Sage shifted closer to Jas when Rhys moved around her to tower over the woman.

  “No, my lord,” she replied. “But you know how he is.”

  “I have to agree with Maeve, Rhys,” the leader added, stepping into the circle they’d formed in the hall.

  Rhys cackled in his deranged way. “You live to disagree with me, Blair.” He stepped back and wrapped a hand around her bicep. “I brought her here. I delivered her. I won’t have this honor taken from me.”

  She kept her face blank even though he was pinching her arm.

  “You shouldn’t hold the Aermian so tightly. Even I can see you’re hurting the girl,” Maeve admonished.

  His cold eyes locked onto her face, and she had to force herself not to run in the only way she could: by retreating into her own head. As appealing as it seemed, however, it was not something she could afford.

  “There’s beauty in flaws,” he whispered near her cheek.

  Her stomach heaved. Lord, how she despised him.

  His face soured as if he read the thoughts she fought to hide. “We go now,” he snarled. “Move!” He released her arm and spun around to stalk away, the warriors seamlessly parting for him.

  The men straightened, forming a ring with Blair, the Scythian woman, Jas, and her at the center. Sage stepped forward, only to be tugged back. She met Jasmine’s blue-gray eyes.

  “I can’t move,” Jas whispered.

  “What?”

  “My legs, they’ve seized.”

  Sage released her friend’s hand and tucked the brunette into her side. “Put your arm around my neck.”

  Jasmine grunted and did so. “God, that hurts,” she hissed.

  “It’s going to hurt more before it gets better. Brace yourself.”

  A small cry fell from Jas’ lips as Sage held her tightly and began moving.

  “You have one extra,” a feminine, accented voice spoke from her right.

  “She…inserted herself where she didn’t belong, and we had no choice but to bring her. We always need more stock.”

  Stock? What did that mean? She tilted her head down, focusing on carrying Jas and listening at the same time, her ear cocked toward the woman.

  “The last few did well.”

  There was an undercurrent of jealousy in the woman’s tone. Interesting. Why would she be jealous of stock? Her foot slipped, and she jerked, jarring her friend.

  “Hell, Sage,” her friend cursed through clenched teeth.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, adjusting her grip. She glanced at the floor
and grimaced at the trail they were leaving. If by some miracle they could escape, at least they’d have their own trail of dirty, bloody footprints to return by.

  Looking ahead, she caught sight of a set of twenty-foot-tall, engraved, white doors adorned with curling black handles carved from wood. The warriors stationed outside them bowed to Rhys and then immediately looked at her. Was she that different? That odd? To her, they were the odd ones, all looking the same.

  She was pulled from her questions when Rhys appeared before her. “You will not speak unless spoken to. You will stare at the floor unless addressed, and you will not embarrass me.” He then spun on his heel and disappeared past the ring of warriors.

  “He’s right,” the leader whispered. “Be careful, both of you.”

  The immense door pushed inward.

  Sage took a deep breath and looked to Jasmine. “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be when walking to my death,” she wheezed.

  Sage briefly quirked a smile at her before shuffling along with their procession as it moved through the doors and into the room. Upon entering, her eyes widened and she barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping.

  The room was large and domed, its walls at least four stories high, with glass ceiling tiles sprinkled here and there. The white stone floor was broken up by large trees that stood like giants surveying their kingdom. They reached up through the dome and disappeared into a sea of greenery above them.

  She was jerked from her inspection when something touched her cheek. Her lips thinned. It was a reaching fern. Nothing else. Just a plant.

  She plowed ahead, trying to keep her wits about her, but she still felt like something was off.

  “There are no birds,” Jas whispered.

  The hairs rose on Sage’s arms. That’s what it was. There wasn’t a sound in the throne room except for their own shuffling footsteps. The feeling of being watched had the back of her neck prickling. She scanned the surrounding trees, but found nothing, at least, nothing she could see. That’s what worried her the most. It didn’t dissipate as they moved on, but intensified.