The Witch Owl stood before him in her ghostly form.
His entire essence tried to leap forward so he could hug her. She was safe. She had protected him in the past, even if she was part of the reason Aleron was gone.
“Free me,” he whimpered. “I should have listened to you. I am sorry. Please free me.”
Her hovering, intangible form turned solid, and her bare feet slapped against the ground as she darted forward. She began pulling on the rope around his beak and head, and her scratching nails made his ear holes itch.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered quietly. “I tried to come sooner, but I lost one of your siblings. I had to chase down the Demon who stole them before I could come to you.”
He didn’t care that she hadn’t come sooner. She was here now, and that’s all that mattered. She was here to save him.
“Curses,” she spat as she stepped back. “The knot is too tight.”
She pulled out a dagger from somewhere underneath her feathery cloak and tried to jimmy him free. When that didn’t work, she attempted to just cut the rope free. She couldn’t.
“Curses,” she bit out again. “The enchantment those Anzuli put on these makes them impossible to cut without the right blade.”
She even used shadowy magic, tendrils of it forming around his kneeling form – to no avail.
“Cut off my head,” he pleaded.
The Witch Owl shook her head, eyeing the length of one of his binds. “The chains have locks, and they are enchanted as well. Currently, they are attached around your horns, and I could break you trying to get you free.”
“Fuck,” he snarled.
Her full lips pulled tight. “Why do all my children have naughty mouths?” She went to say more, then snapped her mouth closed when approaching footsteps and chatter could be heard.
The moment he shifted his sight to the door, the Witch Owl was gone.
Wren and two other Demonslayers entered.
“This is your subject, doctor,” she said, gesturing to him.
“I will try to find the key to your chains,” the Witch Owl whispered from somewhere within him. He realised she’d turned incorporeal to hide. “Please, just wait a little longer.”
The lightly tanned female doctor turned a set of brown eyes on him, and her stare was hard – and perhaps just as unfeeling as their leader.
“I see, the Duskwalker. No wonder you’ve been secretive about your actions as of late. What has already been done in terms of research?”
“Johnathan dissected him – twice,” Wren answered, and the doctor cracked her neck.
“I’ll need those notes before I begin. Was it just an autopsy?” The doctor came over to Ingram like she held not an ounce of fear or anxiety towards him. The other doctor had been frightened upon first seeing him, but she didn’t even bat an eyelid when he threatened her with a snarl. “Have you done a proper physical examination?”
“Not yet, no,” Wren confirmed.
The doctor tsked. “Of course Johnathan just opened him up. He was always so… crude.” She circled Ingram and touched the spikes on his back and the vertebrae of his spine with deep strokes. “I must admit, Wren. I’m disappointed you didn’t call for me first.”
“Johnathan was a higher-ranking member,” Wren answered in a bored tone.
“Yes, but not a better doctor. All I lack are years with the guild, not experience.” He jerked, pain flaring, when she scratched a scale from him. “Interesting. It seems to be made up of different animal parts. I’ll do a physical examination today while I wait for Johnathan’s notes. Once I read them over, I’ll see if they’re adequate or if I need to redo his work. Did he examine its brain?”
“No, not yet,” Wren admitted.
“Okay. I’ll do that last. I’ve heard a Duskwalker’s skull is near impossible to break. Let’s find out if that’s true, and maybe I can see what kind of intelligence it’s truly capable of in the process.”
Ingram’s sight morphed into a stark white. He was thankful none of them realised the depth of his fear, since his orbs often turned this colour.
Wren left after the doctor shooed her off, then she began looking him over. At least it wasn’t truly painful, as she only poked and prodded at different parts of his body.
But every moment with her revealed that she was far more thorough than the other doctor. Her hands were cold wherever she touched him, inspecting him from horns to tail tip.
Her eyes peered at him like he was an insect – which was odd, considering he would have towered over her tiny stature.
Sometimes the smallest Demons were the nastiest.
Okay. Okay… shit, Emerie thought as she navigated Zagros Fortress, trying her hardest to hide her frantic body language.
Since it was late afternoon, the sun shining through the hallway windows was bright. It would soon begin its descent over the horizon, but she wished it would hurry.
There weren’t many people loitering in the hallways, as most were in the eating hall. The odd few were those either leaving or switching their shifts.
There were hundreds of positions within the guild, from stable workers for their few messenger horses, to cooks, cleaners, and even watchers. Organising the rosters had, up until recently, been one of her more permanent duties, despite most usually rotating their tasks.
They all had to do the watch shift at some point – and be on different hours for it – to share the load.
There are too many people in the hallways. It would have been better if it was past curfew for those who didn’t have duties to perform, but Emerie couldn’t wait any longer.
Her last visit to the Duskwalker’s dungeon revealed the new doctor wanted to have her own peek inside him. The poor guy just couldn’t catch a break.
That wasn’t what had lit a fire underneath her arse.
Even though he’d already healed his wounds – she hated that cleanup duty was the only reason she was permitted to visit him – his breathing had been short and shallow. Stark white orbs had flashed blue at her, before being once more engulfed by his fear, and he’d tensed up upon seeing Emerie.
She clenched her eyes shut tightly at the memory.
“Please,” he’d whined. “Keep her away from me. Don’t let her break my skull.”
Emerie had already been informed of Sabrina’s intentions earlier from Wren. She’d also already made her decision.
She’d already been actioning her plans.
But his words… how urgent and panicked they were… His skull is significant. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why – all she knew was that she couldn’t wait.
I should have just figured my shit out sooner.
But it was hard to break years of brainwashing, training, fear, and hatred. It was hard to go against everything she’d ever known, everything she’d ever learned, to do the right thing. Especially with a pest like Wren in her ear.
Tonight, she was going to free the Duskwalker.
Would she die? Probably!
Either the Duskwalker would take his anger out on her, or Wren would hang her for being a traitor while shoving him back in that dungeon. But she just couldn’t do this anymore.
She couldn’t sit idly by and allow this to keep happening.