Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [92]
Cavatina almost laughed. A little late for that. She was bound with magical rope whose heat was agony against her skin, a constant reminder of her humiliating plight. Even so, Cavatina nodded, disguising the gesture as a simple lifting of the head to glance down at her bound wrists. If Halisstra did attack the demon, it just might give Cavatina the moment she needed to roll across the ground to her holy symbol and grab it. Halisstra slowly rose…
The demon turned in her direction. "Down," he thundered.
Halisstra collapsed, whimpering.
Cavatina threw herself into a roll, but the demon grabbed her shoulder, halting her. He slammed her onto her back. The weight of his hand on her chest was like a boulder.
"For a Darksong Knight, you're not very smart," he told her.
Cavatina's eyes widened. She hadn't told him she was a Darksong Knight.
The balor smiled. "Oh yes, I can hear your thoughts. Both yours-and Halisstra's."
Was that so? Cavatina envisioned carving the demon into pieces. Slowly.
The balor laughed. "Halisstra bores me. You, on the other hand, I find amusing." He ran a lazy claw down Cavatina's naked body.
Cavatina knew he expected her to shudder under his touch. She kept her eyes on his, steeling herself, not allowing her flesh to so much as twitch.
"You don't frighten me," she said.
"I can see that." The demon lowered his blunt muzzle to her chest and sniffed. When he rose again, he was smiling. "Halisstra betrayed you. She delivered you into my hands. Tell me, priestess of Eilistraee, what will you do to her if you survive this?"
"The Lady of the Dance is infinitely merciful," Cavatina answered. "If Halisstra is truly repentant-"
"But she's not," Wendonai said. "You and I both know it. Remember, I can hear your thoughts. A moment ago, you hoped to reach your holy symbol. Just before that, you fantasized about spitting Halisstra with your sword. You would strangle her with your own two hands and commit her soul to the Abyss forever-if only she could be killed."
Halisstra, still cringing behind the demon, whimpered.
Cavatina said nothing. It was true. In its essence, if not in the exact details.
"Yes," the demon hissed through a jagged row of fangs. "It is, isn't it? There's a dark side to you, Cavatina, lurking just below the surface. One you work hard to suppress. A hardness. An inflexibility, born of pride."
Cavatina said nothing. She had every reason to be proud. Except, she thought ruefully, at this moment.
The demon leaned closer. "You cleave to the rules of your faith, but it's difficult for you, at times. Your temper sometimes… slips out. You enjoy the hunt, the kill. A little too much."
"I do as Eilistraee bids."
"Yes, but I can sense something that underlies this. The thing that drove you into demon hunting in the first place. An anger." The demon cocked his head. "Born of jealousy, perhaps? What could you, a Darksong Knight-the oh-so-proud slayer of Selvetarm-possibly be jealous of?"
Cavatina said nothing. She focused on her hatred of demons, of this demon in particular. She pushed everything else out of her mind. Shoved it into a dark corner, where Wendonai couldn't possibly find it.
"Oh, is that it?" Wendonai exclaimed, the mock surprise out of place on his bestial, leering face. "All this… just because you weren't redeemed?"
Behind him, Halisstra sat up. She leaned forward expectantly, staring at Cavatina.
"I am a priestess of Eilistraee," Cavatina said slowly. "I took the sword oath, just like any other priestess-"
"Not just like them," Wendonai said smoothly. "They were redeemed. You… merely took the oath."
Cavatina bristled. The demon was playing with her, yanking out her deepest fears and tossing them at her feet. She didn't have to take this. "I had no other patron deity before taking up Eilistraee's sword. I was born into the faith. Unlike the others, I didn't need to be redeemed. I had nothing to atone for."
"Luckily for you," Wendonai purred. "For, unlike the other priestesses, you could never, ever, have been redeemed." He leaned