The Face of Darkness

A sense of urgency came over my captor. Was it morning all ready?

“Take a breath,” whispered Fey.

“H—mmph!” My mouth filled with sand. I began to cough, inhaling more fine desert sand.

“You humans are so much more difficult when they have to breathe,” the Darkbringer said. “He had to order you alive.”

A tendril like cool, oily, liquid covered my mouth then sunk down my throat, absorbing all the sand that plagued me. I gagged, coughed and found I could breathe. Gasping for air, I managed to ask, ” ‘He’?”

My bare feet touched solid ground and the darkness that had surrounded me flowed off my skin. I turned and with the help of a dim glow eminating from the tunnel walls I watched the blackness solidify into a basic human form.

Fey was tall with a waist too slim to be useful. Her skin and hair were black, as was to be expected, her eyes were red—blood red—and searched my face for something. I wasn’t sure what.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she finally said and began walking down the sandstone tunnel.

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