The Dream Crafter(89)

Pull it together. Okay, this wasn’t working. Another tact was called for. Putting on her most contrite face, she said, “Listen, I’m sorry. I was misled, and they used my ignorance against me. I see that now, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to make up for my actions.”

Fallon’s face was bland as she nodded. “Glad to hear it. You’re going to be making it up here, in these rooms, for a very long time.”

Here came the anger from being locked up, and being jerked around, and she was tired of it. She exploded, pointing her finger at Fallon in sharp, jerky movements, “Listen you fucking bitch, I’m not staying here for another gods damn minute-”

Fallon pulled free her sword, stepping towards her. Taneasha threw her hands up, backing away until she hit the wall, and next to her ear a wshhh and Fallon’s hand on her shoulder, holding her against the wall.

She stayed where she was, but after long moments of nothing else happening, Taneasha lowered her arms.

Fallon’s face was inches from hers, rage in every line of her face. Taneasha shifted her eyes to the left, where that huge sword was not even an inch away from her face, and it was now, after the delay, her cheek began to sting, a warm wetness running down the side of her face.

Blood. Blood…and the sword. She…

She cut me…

The blade sank deep into the wall, the metal radiating cold against her skin, Fallon’s eyes radiating cold scant inches from her own. With a slow, deliberate movement, Fallon brushed the tip of her forefinger against her cheek, pressing in enough for Taneasha to feel the bite, before the swordswoman pulled her finger away, holding up that finger so Taneasha could see the smear of blood.

Now Fallon spoke again, no humor in her voice. “You took a woman who cared for you, and you gave her to necromancers, knowing what they were going to do to her.” The drop of blood dripped down the swordswoman’s finger and disappeared beneath the cuff of her jacket. “If it was up to me, I’d shove this sword through your chest and be well rid of you, kid or not.”

The sword shifted against her cheek, metal brushing against her, and Fallon continued. “Kid. Right. All I see is a necromancer wannabe, and to me there is no reason why I should let you go when I’ve killed hundreds of your kind. Now, do you think this is my version of scaring you to straighten you out, or do you believe I mean every word I’ve said?”

Shivers wracked Taneasha’s body with Fallon’s gaze trained on hers, death the only emotion lurking in those eyes. Her throat closing, she forced out the word, fought against the suffocation. “Believe.”

Fallon held still for long moments more, until Taneasha was bare inches from screaming, from letting the begging in her head free from her lips. In an abrupt and simultaneous movement, Fallon pulled the sword free from where it was buried while letting go of her shoulder, backing away as Taneasha’s legs gave out from under her.

Crumbling to the floor, Taneasha used the last of her energy to pull her limbs into her, using any momentum to get as far away from that sword as the dimensions of the cell would allow.

Her sword sheathed, Fallon moved backwards, circling the cell again, her gaze moving away from Taneasha. “Fortunately for you, your punishment is not mine to decide. Those above me seem to think there is something in you worth fighting for. I don’t see it myself, but I’ve been overruled.”

Fallon twisted, crouching down so she was level with the girl though this time she didn’t come any closer. “You are going back to school, Taneasha, and at this school, you are going to be taught to harness your gifts. And if you fuck up again, your death will be immediate, and there are no other chances.”

“If I-don’t…want to?”

Where the bravado came from, Taneasha didn’t know, but Fallon didn’t even acknowledge her words. “This is going to work out in one of three ways. One,” Fallon held up one finger, “You are going to see the error of your ways and use the rest of this life in making amends for this mistake you’ve made. Second way, you’re going to somehow screw-up, and you’ll be executed during the training.”

The door opened again. Taneasha couldn’t take her eyes from Fallon, but from the periphery of her vision she took in male and bald, average height and average weight.

“Third and final, you’ll get through this schooling while pretending to be reformed, but once you’re done you’ll go back to the path that led you to grabbing Larissa Miller and handing her over to Garof. You’ll do everything you can to become powerful enough to destroy the Guild, probably starting with me. You go that route? You better pray to be lucky enough to pull it off, because otherwise?” And Fallon leaned in, her voice a slow poison. “I’m skinning you alive.”