He’ll live. That’s enough nicety on my end. I hook the ladle back over the barrel and fetch one of the storm lanterns from justinside the back entry, lighting it from the one hanging on the castle’s wall. The small oil flame burns inside a thick glass bubble, held in a sturdy metal stand.
“That’s the rockfield,” I say, jerking my thumb away from the castle. “I hope you’re good at swimming, because I don’t go in the water.” I offer him the lantern and he takes it. For a moment his fingers brush against mine and my whole body stiffens.
“I seem to remember you did,” he rasps.
This asshole is my prisoner, Enchanted to follow my every command, and he still thinks he can taunt me? About an attack that killed two hundred of my people and ruined my life? I scowl.
“Only because you failed to kill me.” The rain slashes one way, then another, buffeted by the wind.
“Pity. Howdidyou survive?”
I didn’t think I could hate him more, but the anger throbs in my head, hot and explosive. My muscles hum, ready to fight.
I ought to kill him. I ought to order him to walk straight into the sea.
But I can’t do that. I’m supposed to keep him alive, and in one piece. I draw a deep breath as my heart pounds.
“Go on, then,” I tell him sharply, folding my arms and leaning back against one of the barrels. The rain howls through the sky. I raise my voice to be heard over it. “Gather what you find and bring it back here. An armful for us each, as quickly as you can. And no running away.”
“You aren’t going to help?” he growls. The storm has turned the whole rockfield dark, but his eyes still glow through it.
“Don’t feel like it,” I say through gritted teeth. “Listen to your betters, thrall.”
The witch gives me one last stare, then turns and walks away barefoot across the rocks.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach as I watch him leave. I’m not used to sending people into danger when I refuse to go myself, and it’smy job now to watch him and keep him captive. But if I go with him, I’m afraid of what I might do.
My whole crew. The Enchanted.
And who knows how many others he and his dragon have killed. Probably thousands. He deserves far worse than this. I swear someday I’ll get to watch the light fade from his eyes.
Lightning crackles through the sky, followed a second later by a rumble of thunder. I find a spot against the castle where I’m shielded from the worst of the storm, and sit back, hoping I haven’t just made a terrible mistake by letting him out of my sight. Darkness swallows him until all I can see is the storm lantern, wavering like a distant star.
Another flash of lighting illuminates the rockfield, and the sight of the Witch King striding through the storm burns into my eyes. The wind howls. This task isn’t meant to be done by one person alone.
“Gods damn the whole world,” I mutter, and follow him into the storm after all.
8
The task isn’t as hopeless as I feared. The storm spat up two more planks from the shattered rowboat that Malkin and I found earlier today. It isn’t much, but the Witch King carries it as we walk in cold silence along the black shore, hunching over as the wind shrieks against us.
Still. We've been out over an hour already.
With stormclouds this heavy, it’s impossible to tell when day ends and night begins. I hold up the lantern, which I’ve taken back from him, and squint into the rain. What a miserable task for a miserable day. My body shivers and my boots are unpleasantly soaked. At least I’m not barefoot like the Witch King.
In the dark the sea looks black. But there’s something pale bobbing out there. I hold up the lantern and take a step closer to the tideline.
The sea slinks back away from me. And then with all the sick fury it possesses a wave rears up twice as tall as the others have been.
My stomach flips and I stumble back across the slick stones. I’m not fast enough. The wave breaks and floods up around myfeet, covering my ankles. I jump back, the lantern swinging wildly in my hand. When I reach high ground, I gag.
At least I didn’t hear a voice that time.
The witch stares at me dispassionately as the water rises up around his calves before retreating.
“I thought your people worshipped knights.” It’s the first he’s spoken since we entered the rockfield.
“We’re notholy,” I snap. I feel sick and woozy and my head pounds. Another wave brings the pale shape in the water closer to shore. Shivering, I raise the lantern and squint at it again.