Amuuth understood. Cade saw himself in the boy. Wanted to help. Change it. Vengeance can be sweet-
Amuuth tugged the ring off and looked at Raif.
“I’m dead, boy,” he said. “You might as well have this ring.” He threw it to Raif before Cade could react.
“No!” Cade shouted and lunged, but he was too late. Raif caught the ring, dropping it immediately when he felt a double sting in one of his fingers.
“What?” he said, but even as he lifted the hand to look, he stumbled, the air thick, too thick to breathe. The floor rose up to meet him. He panicked. He could not breathe. He was surrounded by stone, encased in it.
Cade reached him in time to stop the fall. But he could feel Raif’s flesh already puffing up, the limbs getting rigid. He spun to face Amuuth, his eyes pinning the gang leader to his chair.
“The antidote!” he yelled.
“None.” Amuuth’s voice was harsh. “None. A gift from the finger of a dead fish-eye.” Cade said nothing, not taking his eyes off his enemy. His hand reached down to touch the boy. He was already dead. All hope dies in hell’s capital, in Sanctuary.
Cade was still for a moment, then slowly he tipped his head back until he stared at the ceiling.
“Mother!” he cried. He was on his feet, his sword cutting the air before he knew what was happening. The sword sliced through Amuuth’s neck, the head spinning away. It was so fast that the blood geysered up from between his shoulders.
Cade leaped at the body, chopping and cutting, screaming all the while. His yell was incoherent, but any who heard that sound would never forget the madness in it. Eventually he quit chopping the body, but only when it was no longer recognizably human. For a moment longer Cade stared down. His sword dropped from the red hand.