The Third Kingdom

She was obviously uncomfortable looking at the spirit, so she looked instead at Hannis Arc. “Yes. I don’t know how they were able to break the veils confining them, but all of the ones over the openings into where they were being kept had vanished. I suppose that it’s possible the half people you left to feast on them took the prisoners out, and at that point they somehow managed to overpower the half people and get away.”

“So it would appear,” Hannis Arc said, glaring at Sulachan, “that it is actually your half people, the ones you left behind to handle the situation, who are the ones who failed.”

“No matter,” the spirit king said, sounding unconcerned. “We will have him tracked down and brought back.”

Hannis Arc leaned toward the glowing spirit. “How?” he demanded. “We don’t even know where they went.”

The spirit smiled in that way that Hannis Arc didn’t like. One cadaverous arm lifted, and the spirit king signaled to those behind them. Several Shun-tuk rushed forward and crowded in close to hear his orders.

“Bring me some of my spirit trackers.”

With a whisking gesture they were sent running off into the ranks to do his bidding.

“Spirit trackers?” Hannis Arc asked.

“I created more than simply one kind of soulless weapon to serve me,” Sulachan said in a patronizing tone. “Some feed. Some wield powers. Some track spirits. I will send some of the latter back to the scene of the escape to pick up the essence of their spirits. They will track down and kill those with Richard Rahl. Then they will bring him back to you so that you can do what you should have done in the first place.”

“I guess it is only a temporary setback.” Hannis Arc met Vika’s gaze. “It looks like you will soon enough get your chance to make Richard Rahl suffer. And then I will cut his throat and bleed him out at my feet.”

Vika bowed her head. “Yes, Lord Arc. I look forward to the day I might redeem myself in your eyes.”

He watched her for a moment, considering, weighing her words, then turned to Sulachan.

“The sooner we get there, the sooner I take the seat of power from the House of Rahl, and the sooner I rule the D’Haran Empire.”

“I agree. The trackers will go after Richard Rahl for you while we will tend to more important business.” Sulachan held a long-dead arm out before them in invitation. “Shall we be on our way to the People’s Palace, Lord Arc? It is a long journey.”

CHAPTER

80

Ludwig Dreier tilted his head to get a better look as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and held it over his nose and mouth. She had lost control of her bladder, but that wasn’t the worst of the stink. The smell of blood he was used to. It was the gagging stench of feces from her ruptured bowels that made his nose wrinkle and his breath come in short, reluctant pulls. It was one of the more onerous parts of his work.

He stepped over the little river of urine running across the stone floor to get a closer look. The blood ran in every direction, so he couldn’t avoid stepping in that, but he wasn’t bothered by blood. He had been up to his wrists in it often enough.

It was all a necessary part of his important work.

He twisted his head to the side a little more to get a better look at her face. She stared unblinking at him with the one eye that wasn’t ruined.

“Has she spoken any prophecy?” he asked the Mord-Sith standing behind one of the tightly stretched chains.

“No, not yet,” Erika said. “I have been keeping her near the cusp until you had time to come and see her.”

Ludwig frowned, trying to make sense of the tangled form. The chain was drawn tight, stretched from where it was pinned into the stone blocks of the wall to her bleeding wrist. He finally realized how the arm was broken and twisted back around at an unusual angle, taking all the slack out of the chain, that made her look so peculiar. He was pleased to at last unravel the puzzle and understand what at first made little sense to him.

Erika had been busy, he could see. There was no doubt about it. She was gifted at what she did. But then, so was Ludwig.

He heard small sounds.

“What was that, my dear?” he asked as he bent down.

She was making small sounds he couldn’t understand.

He leaned closer. “I’m afraid that I can’t hear you. If you want to be released from the suffering, then you are going to have to speak up so that I can understand you.”

“Please,” she wheezed.

“Well now, you know what we want,” Ludwig said as he straightened. “We’ve made it clear.” He gestured at the Mord-Sith. “Erika has made it clear, I’m sure. Speak up, then.”

The one eye stared at him, unable to look away. “Please … let me die.”

“Why, of course. That is why I’m here—to give you release from your agony.”

It had taken time to prepare her, to bring her to this state. It was not something that could be hurried or done with haste. Ludwig had learned over his years of study that patience yielded far better results than trying to force the issue.