To Bewitch a Devil

114 Trouble

He patted Zavian’s shoulder, his sign of assurance, and the King took a long look at the peacefully asleep Neera. Finally, even though he could feel the physical pain as he tore himself away from her presence, he moved with intent down to the dungeon. The anger that flowed through him felt like molten magma, burning through his veins with a vengeance, and he was going to unleash it on no other than the culprits.

The guards at the dungeon were fast to make way for Zavain’s entrance once he reached there. Behind the bars, four men were beaten to a stupor, and if not for the occasional wheezing punctuating the air, they looked dead already. Bloodied and battered on the floor, they didn’t even notice he was standing there.

“Are you ready to say who it was that sent you?” Zavian asked.

One of them, the one that fought back the hardest when they were caught, looked up to the King. He looked at his men, and gave a loud cough, blood sputtering from his mouth.

“I don’t know her name, Your Majesty.” He said.

Zavian’s fists clenched. Several women ran through his head. His sister? One of the many maids? Or has his mother gotten to Neera? One of the witches?

“A female.” Zavian mused. “Now give me her descriptions.”

The man coughed some more. “Only if you promise to set us free.”

The man had some nerve, Zavian gave that to him. He looked at the man. He was a lower demon, and that means he knew the mind-reading gift of the older demons. Zavian knew reading his thoughts would not give him the person he was looking for, for lower demons could hide their thoughts and past well, and a killer would be skilled in that. The killer could put a curtain on his thoughts and show Zavian a lie instead.

.....

Zavian’s lips curled up in a wicked smile at his audacity to bargain. In one swift motion, his blade slashed across the face of the man. His scream sent the other three on the floor scampering away to the corners of the cell for safety. The man kept screaming as blood ran down his face.

“You don’t need your eyes to speak,” Zavian said, putting the blade to the killer’s hair and wiped the blood off. He looked at the other prisoners, their eyes wide in fear. A mental image of Neera shot through Zavian’s head, and he kept his knife.

“When I get back”, Zavian began. “I want a name, or I will bury you piece by piece.”

Without another word, he left the dungeon and headed straight back to his chambers. Azriel was still there, and Neera was still asleep.

“Thank you, you can leave now,” Zavian said.

“You should get some sleep too,” Azriel advised, knowing the redness of his eyes had a whole lot to do with the lack of sleep as well as his anger.

“I will only sleep when whoever did this is caught,” Zavian said.

A light knock was at the door. Upon Zavian’s summon, the door opened. A maid carried a fresh tray of food and took the untouched one away. Azriel knew anything he would say as a word of advice would go through one ear of the King and pass through the other, so he left quietly after the maid.

After Azriel left, Zavian shook Neera awake gently. Her cheeks had a hollowness to them that made him know she must have been starving in that horrid place. Her eyes fluttered open, and he was beside her, helping her sit up.

“You should eat something.” He said. He propped the pillow behind her, and took the bowl of steaming porridge, spooned it, and held it out to her mouth.

“I will eat myself.” She said, and attempted to take the spoon from him. Zavian, however, did not budge.

“Open your mouth, Neera.” He instructed.

Knowing it was no use, Neera did as she was told. It tasted so precious in her mouth that she almost cried. The hunger overwhelmed her, and Zavian fed her every last spoon of it.

“You should eat something more solid.” He said.

“Not now”, Neera refused. “I am full and I feel better. Thank you. You look tired. You should get some sleep.”

Zavian chuckled. Typical Neera, still caring for others despite her condition. He maintained his position next to her, and with an arm wrapped around her, he pulled her closer.

He must have been really exhausted, or the chaos in his head had finally come to an end with her close by, because for the first time in the days when she went missing, he finally was able to get some sleep.

...

The security in the palace was heavy. While the guards went about their duties, ensuring every door was under lock and key, somewhere in the chambers, Lyra was uneasy. She was snappier and meaner than usual, and her maids were careful not to step on her toes, but it seemed even breathing close to her was an offense.

They didn’t understand why she was that way all of a sudden; perhaps with Princess Emma bound to go home after the last competition, the fear of losing had gotten to her. However, no one knew the actual truth which involved a failed mission to kill a maid and the killers of the said maid in the very dungeons of the palace.

She was sure she was going to be killed.

She looked to one of the maids making her bed. “You! What nonsense is that? Go see if Princess Kitana is in her chambers, never mind”, she stood to her feet. “I will go myself.”

Lyra stomped out of her room. On her way, Princess Jasmine was passing by, and she did not miss Lyra’s frenzied state. Her hair was not the same meticulous perfection she was known to do it, and she was practically sprinting down the hallway.

“What...” she began, but Lyra breezed past her without waiting, almost knocking her over. Jasmine watched her in confusion, wondering what would have made her so improper.

Lyra increased her pace as she got nearer to Kitana’s room. Without knocking, she barged into Kitana’s room and met her alone. Kitana had her back to her, her gaze focused on the view outside her window.