The silence in the grand dining hall was charged with a jagged, electric tension that made the very shadows on the walls seem to vibrate. Hannah remained pressed against the marble, her forehead cooling against the stone while her lower body felt like it was being eaten by invisible ants of fire.
Hebner did not strike her for her bold, desperate grab. Instead, he reached into a hidden compartment of his ornate chair and produced a small jar. He set it on the table with a sharp clack.
"Apply this," he commanded. His voice was devoid of the shock from moments ago, returning to that low, terrifyingly smooth baritone. "Now."
Hannah, trembling, reached up and took the jar. She assumed it was a salve, perhaps a rare demonic balm to heal the blistering steam burns he had just inflicted. With shaking fingers, she scooped out a dollop of the translucent, greyish ointment and smeared it across her reddened thigh.
