“You’re one of the Red Threads, aren’t you?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, choosing to stare down at the floor instead. It just made me more irritable, so I kicked him again—this time in the knees, dislocating one of his kneecaps. “You crazy bitch!” the Rimian bawled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’re insane! You’re mental!”
I raised the braided red leather thread. “I’m going to start breaking bones now, unless you answer my questions.”
“Dude, I’d take her seriously if I were you.” Kalon chuckled, his mood improving somewhat. I had a feeling he got a kick out of watching me beat up an assassin—particularly one from the same crew responsible for the dart in his back.
“Hold your woman back!” the Rimian hissed. “I have nothing to tell you!”
“Your woman?” I repeated, frowning at Kalon, who gave me an innocent shrug.
“What? His assumption, not mine.”
I breathed out and crouched before the Rimian. Extending my claws, I slashed them across his face, drawing three deep red lines. He grimaced, causing blood to flow in fine threads along his cheeks. “Let’s try this again. You’re a member of the Red Thread faction, Rimians in cahoots with the Darklings. Correct?”
He still wouldn’t answer, so I gifted him with another set of bleeding lines, forming a sinister triple X on his face, his skin cut open, its edges glistening scarlet and pink. If I went any deeper, I was bound to reveal the cheekbones, too.
“I have no control whatsoever over this fine predator,” Kalon said. “I wouldn’t want to, to be honest. Look at how feisty and feral she is. Do you really think I’d be able to tame her? My friend, you should start talking before she cuts deeper. Much deeper.”
The Rimian flinched when I raised my hand again, but he paid attention to Kalon’s advice. “Incorrect,” he mumbled, licking blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“We’re not in cahoots with the Darklings. That’s just one of many rumors about us.”
“But you’re from the Red Thread faction,” I concluded, and he nodded in response. “Okay. Why did you attack us?”
“We’ve been following you since whispers came from the palace that you were looking for us, along with the Darklings. We wanted to clear the air and get the facts straight with you, before someone gets killed,” the Rimian replied.
“Were the poisonous darts part of your effort to clear the air?” I asked, my tone clipped.
“We weren’t going to kill you! We were just going to talk to you.”
Kalon laughed, mockingly throwing his head back. “Right. Sure. Well, since you’re here, by all means, knock yourself out. Talk.”
“Talk, before I cut you a new one,” I hissed at the Rimian.
“A new what?” he replied, slightly confused. That elicited another bout of laughter from Kalon. I shot him a cold gaze, too, trying to keep the conversation on topic, before I brought my claws closer to the Rimian’s throat. “Okay… Okay! What do you want to know?”
“What does the Red Thread faction want?” I asked, peering into his frightened brown eyes. I’d finally gotten to him. I could tell.
“There’s an uprising coming, among our people. We’re tired of the Aeternae’s imperialism. We’re pushing for freedom,” he said. “Rimia is growing restless, but few people know that here. The master commander has been sending soldiers to my home planet, looking to stifle the growing rebellion. We’re merely trying to do what we can from here.”
Kalon was visibly disturbed by the revelation. “What you can? Like what? Trying to kill me, the son of the high priestess?”
“Well, we were hoping to take you hostage, actually. Hence the darts,” the Rimian replied.
I smacked him in the cheek, causing more blood to pour from his cuts. “Well, that clearly didn’t work out so well. Also, you started off with a bold-faced lie, and it’s not going to help you further down the road. Listen, we’ve got people at the palace accusing you of working with the Darklings, and I want to know everything you know about those bastards, because they killed my friend. I’m out for blood, and my tolerance levels are dismal.”
The Rimian dry-swallowed, staring at me. “We are not working with the Darklings. They’ve got something else entirely going on. We’re trying to get to them, to break them from within. As far as we’re concerned, they’re the enemy.”
“What else do they have, as you say, going on?” I asked.
“It’s a bit hard to explain.”
“Try,” I snapped, raising my clawed hand again.
“The Black Fever! They’re trying to stop the Black Fever!” The Rimian whimpered. “It’s a rumor, at least. It’s what I heard. That one of their main objectives is to stop the Black Fever from spreading. We know it’s coming again because the Darklings are mobilizing sooner and faster than before. We’ve seen them out in the streets, and near the orphanage and other gathering spots. It didn’t take a genius to put it together.”
“This doesn’t make much sense. Why would they keep going after Valaine, then?” Kalon replied, shaking his head. “She’s an Aeternae. Part of the ruling class. Not to mention all the other Aeternae they’ve killed over the years.”
The Rimian sighed deeply, aching from his position against the column. “Word has it the Darklings offer up the life of an Aeternae as a sacrifice, and that it usually stops the plague from wiping all of them out.”
“What?” I croaked. “How the hell is Valaine’s death going to stop the Black Fever? It’s an actual disease. Sacrifices are so primitive! What are these Darklings thinking?”
“I don’t know. But they spend considerable amounts of time and resources to find the right Aeternae, every time. Every fifteen thousand years they do this. The attacks, the killings, they usually spike before the Black Fever breaks out. Then, once it fades, the Darklings fall back into the shadows. We’ve theorized that they kill the wrong people, frequently, looking for that right Aeternae… It’s likely they’re after Valaine now because they think that if they sacrifice her, it’ll stop the Black Fever,” the Rimian explained.
I looked at Kalon, and he was as outraged and as befuddled as me. “Are they insane? A murderous cult?” I asked.
“Well, they’re definitely not the anarchists we thought they were,” Kalon muttered.
“And the Red Threads? What are you up to?” I asked the Rimian.
“I told you. We’re revolutionaries. I’m telling the truth. We were going to kidnap Lord Kalon here for ransom. We need funding for weapons.”
Kalon and I exchanged an intrigued glance, before I moved my attention back to the Rimian. “What about Nethissis? What do you know about her death?”
“Who’s Nethissis?” the Rimian asked.
