The fall was a pressurized vacuum that sucked the oxygen right out of my lungs, leaving me clawing at the empty air until I slammed into the ground. It wasn't stone. It was a dense, suffocating layer of grey silt and crushed bone that rose up in a ghostly cloud, coating my throat in the taste of stagnant rot.
I lay there for a long time, my cheek pressed into the freezing grit. The side of my face, where he had struck me was a localized fire, thrumming with heat so intense it felt like the bone underneath was warping. I tried to gasp, but my ribs felt fused together by the sheer atmospheric weight of the Rift.
"Master Dain..." I wheezed, the word barely a vibration in the dead silence.
I forced my head up, my vision splintering into white stars. I expected to see him broken beside me. I expected to see the man who had just dismantled my life in a fit of territorial rage looking for a way out of the abyss he'd dropped us into.
But master Dain was already standing.
He stood twenty paces away, his blackened plate armor absorbing the sickly, violet glow of the Rift's sky. He didn't look hurt. He didn't even look shaken. He was staring toward the horizon, where the grey fog bled into a bruised, oily black, the direction of Asphodel. The direction of his father. I know this because I carefully studied the tactical maps master Dain had on his desk.
And then, he smiled.
It wasn't a smile of relief or a smile for me. it was a sharp, mocking twist of the lips that made my blood turn to ice. It was the expression of a man who had finally stopped pretending to be a hero and decided to enjoy the descent.
"Jasmine love," he said, his voice dropping into a low, cruel drawl that carried perfectly through the thin air. "Still trembling. Still waiting for the world to make sense?."
I scrambled backward on my elbows, the shredded silk of my gown snagging on the jagged, bone like protrusions of the ground. The fabric felt heavier now, wet and sentient, the deep purple dye leaking into my pores and mapping out my veins in a glowing, iridescent web.
"We have to go master Dain," I rasped, my heart hammering a frantic, jagged rhythm. "We're trapped here."
Dain turned his head toward me, his red eyes blown wide, reflecting the violet brand on my cheek with a dark, predatory amusement. He didn't move to help me up. He didn't offer a word of comfort. He just watched me struggle in the dust, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.
"Jasmine," he countered, the mocking edge in his voice cutting deeper than the cold. "He's waiting for his heir to stop playing soldier in the dirt. He wants a return on his investment."
I shook my head, my hair tangling in the silt. "You said you'd protect me. You said the bunker was safe"
"The bunker was a cage" he interrupted, stepping closer. His heavy boots didn't crunch in the silt; they sank with a heavy thud. "I'm tired of the cage. I'm tired of the ridge. If the Devil wants to play his games, then I'll show him I've learned every one of his tricks." I'd show him that I was his son ".
He leaned down, his face a mask of terrifying confidence. He didn't reach for my hand. He looked at the mark on my face, the proof of his ownership and his smile widened into something jagged and final.
"I'm going to make a bargain with the Devil, Jasmine," he whispered, the words sounding like a death sentence. "
He stood back up, his silhouette blotting out what was left of the light. He didn't explain. He didn't justify the betrayal. He simply turned his back on me and began to walk toward the dark heart of the Bone Fields, leaving me to crawl out of the dust and follow the only monster I had left.