In The Cards

The Devil stands for danger and evil, a dire threat whenever it turns up in a reading. Powerful and wicked, it refers to people or entities who delight in pain and suffering, and who grow strong on fear and misery. Be warned.

Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck Of Cards – An Introduction’

Edwin sat at the table in his room, staring emptily into the wall. I did what I had to do, he thought. I had to do it to keep them both safe.

He didn’t know if he would have been able to persuade his teacher to leave Zaerini be. Possibly, but he didn’t dare take that chance. The redhead was much more powerful than she had been when he first met her, but not powerful enough for that challenge. And if she had been, that would have been no better. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, but the same went for his mentor. And that, of course, was the other reason for what Edwin had done.

It had shocked the Red Wizard to the core to see Dekaras in such a state. Of course he knew intellectually that the assassin wasn’t invulnerable, but that wasn’t the same thing as actually having the fact thrown in his face. And he wouldn’t pull out to save himself. Not if he thinks I need his help. And maybe I do. But not at the price of his life! Never that.

Edwin sighed again. That letter should help keep them both safe, assuming he believes me. His teacher had always been good at seeing through any subterfuge he attempted. But at the moment the assassin wasn’t exactly at his best. Loss of blood, exhaustion and a fever had seen to that. Edwin bit his lip. He felt dirty for taking advantage of that fact, despite telling himself that it was necessary. At least I sent some more healing potions along with that letter. The thought was small comfort however. But I had to do it! I had to. Didn’t I?

Edwin stiffened. He had sensed something…some sort of presence in the room with him. He couldn’t hear anything, but there was definitely something there. “H-hello?” he said, his guilty conscience conjuring up his worst fear. “Is…anybody there?” Only silence answered. But was that an almost invisible movement in the shadows? It’s him! Edwin thought, his heart almost hammering itself out of his chest. He’s guessed! And now…now he’s come after me.

A small black shape leapt onto the table, causing the wizard to shy back with a startled oath, almost falling off his chair. Then he recognized it and drew a deep breath of relief. “Oh,” he said. “Just the cat.”

And then Edwin felt certain that he was going insane as a haughty little voice spoke inside his head. What do you mean, ‘just’? There’s no ‘just’ about it.

Edwin felt his mouth slowly drop open. “Was…was that you talking just now?” he asked the cat.

He caught a distinctly annoyed look in the animal’s clear green eyes. No, that was Vecna the Lich. Of course it was I. Now be quiet and listen. My Kitten is in bad trouble. She needs help, as quickly as possible.

“Your…kitten? You don’t have any kittens, I’m sure Zaerini would have mentioned…”

Softpaws hissed. She is who I was talking about, wizard.

Edwin’s mind backtracked a little. “Hold on. Did you say…that she is in trouble?”

Yes. I’m sure I was clear on that point. What else do you want me to do to make you understand, jump up and down and meow? By the time the cat finished the sentence Edwin was already out the door and accelerating. Once he reached Zaerini’s room he stormed inside, not pausing to knock. The room was empty, the bedclothes disarrayed.

They are gone already, Softpaws said as she quietly slipped into the room. They took her with them. I can smell them in the room.

Edwin was barely able to think straight by now, and he had to support himself against the wall at the cat’s word. Danak and his monkeys. If they have harmed her I will grind every bone in their bodies to dust with my bare hands. “Who?” he managed to whisper. “Who has taken her?”

The two men who threatened you the other day. One of them was very quiet.

“Marek and Lothander. I remember them. But how could they take her without anybody noticing?”

Softpaws gave him a curious look. She was feeling bad…there was something wrong with her. I could sense it, but I didn’t know what it was. She said she was going to be fine. The cat’s mental voice sounded extremely upset by now. I shouldn’t have believed her. They did something to her.

Poison, Edwin thought. That has to be it. Something to weaken her. “What of the others?”

They feel bad too, but not as bad as my Kitten. But they’re in no shape to go find her, they can barely stand. You’re the only one who’s not sick. And you’re the only one I can talk to.

“Me?”

Yes. I can speak to my Kitten without effort, through our bond. With anybody else I have to work on it, and so I normally don’t do it, but now I have to. You were the easiest. Your mind is attuned to magic, and you have your own bond with her. I cannot read your mind directly as I can with her, but I can at least communicate with you. The black cat leapt onto Edwin’s shoulder, nudging his cheek with her soft nose. You must hurry. She needs help, and soon. Get help if you can, but otherwise we must go ourselves.

Edwin nodded, and his face settled into a look of icy determination. “I will,” he said, gripping his staff so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “And if they have harmed her, I will make them pay. Very slowly.”

If Zaerini could have heard Edwin’s words, perhaps she would have felt some relief. Unfortunately, she couldn’t. She was on the floor in the dark dungeon cell, the heavy and sour-smelling body of Reiltar Anchev pinning her down. Not that that was really necessary. The poison was still working in her body, making her practically as weak and defenseless as a newborn. She fought and fought against it, trying to pull free from her assailant, but to no avail. The piercing needles of pain in her body kept her from using magic as well, even blocking her from the powers of her divine blood. Her lips were drawn back in a snarl of fear and disgust, her eyes blazing with hatred, revulsion and naked terror. Reiltar adored that, she could tell. He fed on it, like a vampire on blood. He wouldn’t be satisfied with simply killing her for opposing him and messing up his precious Iron Throne schemes, he wanted her utterly crushed, her spirit broken beyond repair. And she was very much afraid that he might succeed.

“So,” Reiltar said, a dreadful tone of anticipation in his voice, “now it is time for us to begin in earnest. After the trouble you have caused I shall take great pleasure in claiming my compensation. Perhaps, once I am done with you, I shall let Sarevok take a turn with you. It would serve him well, I think, to learn how to put a woman in her proper place.

I wish Sarevok would come right now, Rini thought, trying to twist her head away as the monster stroked her dirty cheek in a parody of affection, his finger tracing a path along her jaw and down her neck towards her collarbone. At least my brother would kill me cleanly. Not like him. Not like The Devil.

The monster had begun with slapping, pinching, prodding, anything that would cause acute pain and humiliation without making her lose consciousness. He obviously wanted her awake to feel what he was doing. She tried to push her mind away from the knowledge of what he was going to do eventually, but it was impossible. Of course, the waiting helped the fear grow, which probably was exactly what the Devil wanted. She knew him, she had seen him in her Reading and knew that he would show no mercy, though he would love hearing her beg for it. She hoped she would be able to keep from doing so.

Now the fingers were reaching for her clothes, unfastening them. Wherever they touched her skin she felt soiled, covered with filth. Gorion. Please help me.

The Devil was touching her. Slowly, deliberately, intimately, wanting to drag the mental agony out. Being helpless to stop him was the worst, that and knowing what was soon to come. It isn’t my fault, she told herself. Whatever he does…the shame is his. Not mine. It wasn’t much of an encouragement though. She could feel tears in her eyes and from the pleased look on the monster’s face she knew that he was savoring every single one.

“Sir?” The voice of the guard outside the door sounded tense with fear. “Sir, I know I wasn’t to interrupt, but you have to come at once.”

“What?” Reiltar growled, getting to his feet. “I left you specific orders that I was not to be disturbed.”

“He did so on my orders,” a second voice said. “Your very position within the Throne is threatened, Reiltar! This is a serious emergency, you haven’t the time for entertainment at the moment.”

“Is that so, Semaj?” Reiltar said in a cold voice, not looking at the girl on the floor. “Tell me more.”

“Do you recall the land you bought from a certain Count Turnipsome?” The voice outside the door sounded fearful, but also a little smug. “It seems it was worthless swampland, infested with Bugbears. The Throne higher-ups demand an explanation right now, their representatives are waiting for you.”

Reiltar cursed loudly. “I will come,” he said. “And if I ever get my hands on that gnome I will personally strangle him.” Then he turned to his prisoner. “As for you, think of this as an intermission. I will be back to deal with you when I have the time to spare. In the meantime, I’m sure you will eagerly await my return.”

Rini didn’t answer him. Thank you Count Turnipsome, whoever you are. Her clothes were in some disarray, but at least the Devil hadn’t had the time to actually live up to his worst threats. Him touching her at all was bad enough though. If I live through this, and if I get out of here, I will kill him. I will.

Concentrating on the hatred helped a little. At least it was better than the fear. She tried to summon up every scrap of it; all the bloodlust inherited from her sire, and felt it wrap itself around her soul like a warm and protective blanket. Yes, this was so much better than fear, though the fear was still there beneath. She could almost feel her teeth tearing the throat of the monster open, the hot blood splattering her face. Yesssss… Slowly, painfully, she smiled, unaware that it was not only the torchlight that made her eyes suddenly glow like twin suns in the darkness of the cell.

Reiltar’s dark frown hinted that he didn’t like what he was seeing at all. He had thought her cowed into submission, and this new defiance was annoying him, but also unnerving him a little. For a moment it seemed that he was going to hit her, or say something.

“Reiltar…” the voice outside the door said. “They are waiting.”

The Iron Throne leader nodded. “Very well,” he said. “This…dalliance will have to wait.” With that he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Yes, Zaerini thought, hardly aware of the cold air against the exposed parts of her body. His death will be sweet. The hot light in her golden eyes got slowly stronger as she contemplated Reiltar’s death.