The Necromancer Trilogy: Prophecy

Chapter Fourteen - Torture and Milkshake

Celia sat in the too-small, too-dark room. The bare walls stared back at her, mocking her. She sat up straight, arms folded, gazing ahead of her. Her face was carefully blank, hiding the twists of fear circling inside.

  Celia knew about the interviewing method of “Tell me or else”. With her, they hadn’t bothered with “tell me”. They’d skipped straight to “or else”. Celia knew what “or else” included. She knew what happened in this room. And she was afraid.

“Karn.”

She turned to look at the carefully emotionless face of a young man she knew well.

“Last chance to talk,” he warned her.

Celia looked at his face, reading the flash of fear, pity and regret that he let show momentarily in his eyes. Feeling guilty for making him do this, she shook her head once.

“I’m sorry, Celia,” he murmured. “I really am.”

A girl stepped through the door.

“I’m not,” she said, happily. “Hello, Celia, darling.”

“Hello, Maria,” Celia said, without enthusiasm.

Maria Crew laughed, scraping her hair back into a ponytail.

“What have you done this time, Celia? Something dramatic, I expect. It always is.”

Celia said nothing while her mind went and curled in a corner, shaking with terror.

“What do they even want you to say?” Maria asked.

“You don’t know?”

Maria shrugged. “Hey, I’m just meant to get you to say it.”

Celia sighed. “Where is the princess?” she said, in a sing-song voice. “Why are you on her side? Who is travelling with her? Where are your allies? Where are you safe houses?”

“Oh, basic stuff then,” Maria smiled. “Feel free to talk anytime, Celia, dear.”

Celia looked straight into her eyes. “You’ll pay, Maria. Every time you do this, you know you will pay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Maria laughed. “Ah, Celia, it’s amazing how naïve you are. No, you are the one who will pay.”

She lifted her hands and Celia braced herself, knowing what was coming and dreading it.

“Are you ready, sister?” Maria cried, exultantly. “Are you ready for pain?”

It came and it was like a red-hot knife driven into Celia’s skull. It was like her bones being ripped out one by one. It was like being stabbed over and over and over. It was worse than anything she could have imagined. And it was real.

Chrysanthemum was sitting in a café when Blue and Sophie walked in. Blue was still grumbling about Necromancers, but Sophie had stopped listening.

“Can’t we eat?” she had complained. “I haven’t had any food since a shortbread biscuit yesterday evening.”

Blue had confirmed that lunchtime was on the way and that a milkshake could hardly be frowned upon.

“Onwards!” he had declared, “To milkshake and beyond!”

   The sight of Chrysanthemum startled them considerably and they froze, instantly assuming it was a trick.

“It’s not,” Chrysanthemum glanced at their faces. “I got out.”

Tala was beside her, nursing a wounded foot, grumbling to herself.