A Toiling Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page A

Eithna. I promise this. I will have
justice for your death. A little promise whispered into the
depths of the darkness, carried off by the shadows to my ears a
couple of centuries ago.
    Justice was given to those who did wrong to
another. It was a word I hated. Humans found injustice in
everything. “Then every being is at risk.”
    “They are safe as long as they do not attack
humans. Apparently the master is really fond of humans.”
    “And yet many of the beings live off of
them,” I replied wryly. What kind of joke was this slauve’s master
playing at?
    He went quiet, thoughtful, before slowly
sitting up. Sitting straight up, he was taller than me
standing.
    “Well, he is an angry man held down by
morals. He also fears retribution by his own master.”
    “Morals.” I chewed on the word, tasted it
and spat it back out in rejection. Another stupid concept humans
created.
    “You do not believe in morals?” The seeker
cocked his head questioningly. I glowered up at him.
    “There is no right and wrong when it comes
to how others act, not in this world. What kind of morals would
even hold back a being strong enough to create a slauve?”
    “He is simply a man who will follow his
master to the end of time but needs justice to move forward,” he
replied, using that damn word again and staying discrete, talking
in little riddles. Like usual. “He’s torn by the duties to his own
master and also in the need to right the wrongs done to him.”
    “Who is the slauve’s master and what does he
want?” I asked, trying to get more information out of him. Talking
with a seeker was always sluggish—they talked like a philosopher as
they contemplated all the information they saw.
    Seeker shrugged as he closed his eyes and
took a deep breath. He went still and after a few painfully long
and suspenseful moments, he cocked his head as if listening to
something. He jerked harshly, his head shaking before snapping his
eyes back open. There was now a little silvery grey where his
pupils would be.
    “You. He wants you dead.” I rolled my eyes.
I already knew this. “Who-”
    He jerked again and his face slowly closed
down, his eyelids drooping and all his muscles relaxing. Seeker was
going into one of his comas and wouldn’t be able to wake up for
another couple of days.
    “No you don’t,” I said a little
desperately.
    I grabbed onto his shirt and yanked on him.
His head rolled forward and when I shoved at him, his head rolled
back against the couch. I swore under my breath and left. His guard
stood in the door, big and imposing. I jerked my head towards his
master and he scurried inside.
    When I plopped back down at the bar, Baron
came over with a mug.
    “What is it?” I asked, looking at the
contents suspiciously. Baron was well known for his weird
concoctions. I had front row seats a couple of weeks ago to a woman
drinking a shot of what she thought was virgin blood and her skin
ended up bubbling, creating huge boils that when popped, showed a
new, ugly hag-like appearance. She hasn’t been back since.
    “Just a little something to help with all
that rage inside of you.”
    “That bad?” I asked, realizing that I was in
fact raging—one of the terms the young kids like to use. It
explained why a couple scurried away when I approached the bar,
their faces paling when I got too close. I was used to others
avoiding me when I got too close to them so I didn’t think it was
anything new. Apparently Baron could read me loud and clear. He
nodded and watched me with a careful smile.
    I took a deep breath, reining in the deep
dark emotions I usually kept hidden. The bar grew brighter as I
relaxed a little. So did the atmosphere as the other patrons shared
a collective sigh of relief. The witch was still at her table, her
companion holding on to her hand. She looked like she really wanted
to talk to me. I ignored her and turned back to Baron. This was the
second time tonight my wrath showed itself. I was better than