Rise of a Queen

Chapter 44

Painful contractions skipped through my heart.

"In the goblets? You mean, the ones I drank from?" Dustin looked towards me again and I saw his face go pale, "No, that isn't right. Whatever was in those goblets almost killed me."

"A sick joke left by your ancestor to be sure the only person who could distribute the disease was the same as the one who could distribute the cure, for only a direct descendent of the King could have drank from those goblets without dying."

Dustin desperately sought refuge from the Count's ridiculous claims, "But I did die. Lumiere and Doc had to-"

"You didn't die." The Count clarified, "You were incubating."

Beside me, Lumiere mumbled inaudibly, "That's why ... the epinephrine didn't work."

The Count abruptly grabbed Dustin by the neck and yanked him closer, "The instant you swallowed that liquid, it was ingested and absorbed into your body. The part that almost killed you was courtesy of the ingredients being mixed and activated by the ink in your tattoo. The change in color of your ink signifies its completion." Using one hand to choke Dustin, he used the other to trace the lines of Dustin's sigil, so carefully, "You are ready to be harvested now."

"How do you know all of this?" Dustin gasped through the Count's grip, "Not even Erie knew-"

"The Gatekeepers are thorough, Erie wasn't lying when she said they keep perfect records of everything. But let's consider a very important, and often overlooked, fact ..." The Count's manic smile fluoresced in the low light of this dungeon, "Who created the Gatekeepers?"

Erie's body drained of color and posture, she slumped against the wall lifelessly, "The Council."

"My ancestors decided to initiate a Gatekeeper to document and protect the records of our world, but the Gatekeepers have only ever been librarians." Count Marx squeezed tighter still, "We did not want them to grow a conscious and interfere with the trials of the King's curse. So we told them just enough for them to do our work for us when the time came."

Erie leaned sideways, against Brandon, who was fearfully watching as life was drained from his cousin. Erie whispered, "You used us."

"Do not feel special, my dear." The Count told her coldly, "We use everyone."

Dustin's coughs subsided as breath was lost, he clawed at the hand fastened around his throat but he couldn't force the Count's release. Dustin has sustained too many injuries in recent weeks and he has become too weak. His eyes were closing, his body was slowing.

Lumiere ripped at the chain preventing his freedom, "Let him go, you're killing him!"

"When ink runs red, salvation is near." Count Marx recited. He said it again, then a third time. He licked his lips while watching Dustin fade and brought his other hand to Dustin's neck, lowering Dustin to the ground as the last of his life threatened to depart, "Your ink has run red, the cure is in your veins, and salvation is indeed near." Count Marx pulled Dustin closer and growled in his face, "Salvation is finally mine."

Just as Dustin's eyes rolled back, the Count tossed him aside. Dustin dropped like dead weight and coughed roughly against the floorboards. His injuries from the gunshot and resuscitation restricted his ability to recover. His side bulged and retracted abnormally from his broken ribs, and his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection to splint his restoration

Erie blinked out of her stupor and nudged herself closer to where Dustin had collapsed. Brandon followed after her and the two of them leaned over where Dustin was huddled on the ground, still trying to regain his breath. Erie glared up at the Count and spoke without fear of his psychosis, "If you keep treating him like this, he will die long before you get your cure."