Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) Read Online Free

not real. You’re not real.”
    “You’re a coward.” The Tormentor stalked him, the branding iron glowing white hot in his hand. “Weakness is disloyalty.”
    Nikifor dived around him and scrambled to the other side of the room. “Go away!” His voice broke on his own terror. When he raised his hands to his face, he caught sight of the scar. Smoke rose from seared flesh.
    The Tormentor stalked his retreat. Each footstep echoed like a heartbeat. “Worthless,” he said. “You who can slay a thousand vampires in a night, but hide inside, afraid of being killed.”
    “It’s not–I’m not–” Nikifor edged along the wall away from the Tormentor.
    “Not afraid of being killed? Then you may as well kill yourself. End it. End your miserable, cowardly existence.”
    “Leave me alone. You’re not real.”
    “Oh I’m real, my boy.”
    The shadow moved. A fist caught him in the temple and sent him sprawling across the stone floor. Nikifor hit his head when he went down. Something hot and wet crept down his face. He welcomed the darkness that followed.
     

     
    “What you doing down there, Muse?”
    Nikifor groaned into a stone floor. He was so cold every muscle ached. A cut on his temple stung.
    “Hey, he’s alive!”
    They hauled him to his feet. Nikifor swayed back and forth in a circle of supporting hands, all belonging to people half his size. He studied each swarthy face and tried to remember where he was.
    “How come you look like someone punched you in the face?” asked a woman.
    Nikifor stared in bemusement at the lines of silver dots traced from her eyes to her jaw. “Who are you?”
    “Hey!” said a young man. He had two dreadlocks framing his face, each ending in a snake’s tooth dipped in silver. “It actually worked!”
    “What worked?” Nikifor rubbed a lump on his head.
    The woman chuckled. “The cure, Muse. We’ve had it for years, but since no muse ever came to us for help before, we never got to actually test it. For all we knew it could have burned up your skeleton inside you. Quick Strike Pin, go get Coalfire.”
    “What cure?” Nikifor shivered in the cold air and tried to remember, well, anything at all. At least he remembered his name, that was a start.
    The woman stood on her tip-toes, grabbed the ends of his long hair to drag him down to her level and peered into one eye, then the other. “Amnesia’s not too bad a side effect, I suppose,” she said. “Considering. You came to us for a cure, Muse, because you were addicted to vibe.”
    “What’s vibe?”
    She grinned. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Vibe, mister, is a perfectly harmless drink we partake of because it makes your voice go funny. Except if you happen to be a muse, in which case it sends you barking mad and then kills you if you stop drinking it. And if you keep drinking it.”
    “Am I barking mad?” Nikifor considered this carefully. It was always possible, considering the company he apparently kept. Or maybe–his eyes widened. “Or am I dead?”
    “Neither,” said a voice from the doorway.
    The little people moved back to allow a man with white dreadlocks to come forward. He walked in a circle around Nikifor, all the while leaning heavily on a stick topped by a silver goat’s skull, then gave him a long, hard stare. “Well,” he finally said. “You survived. That was unexpected.” He poked Nikifor in the ribs. “No doubt your memory will come back sooner than you want it to.” He cleared his throat, scowled and tapped his stick on the ground a few times. “It’s not over yet. I expect you’ll need a good few weeks of being kept busy before we can let you loose on Shadow again.” He glanced at Strike Pin. “Put him to work in the mine.”
    “Yes Coalfire.” Strike Pin jerked his head at the open door. “Come on you.”
     

     
    Nikifor followed Strike Pin down three hundred and fifty six uneven stone steps, in a narrow passage where the walls oozed black moss and flaming torches placed