I don't own anything except the story and my OC's.

Chapter 30

The Horned King brooded darkly in his chambers, his expression as cruel as his thoughts.

He had just finished going through every piece of reading material available even remotely related to the Black Cauldron, and still had not found the tiniest speck of evidence that explained how or why he had been brought back.

He couldn't help but think that if he could find out what had forced the Fates to release him from the Cauldron, rebuild his body and bring him back to life, he could use that information to somehow keep himself here permanently. To keep himself from the eternal Hell that awaited him.

A whisper from the Cauldron tugged at him, but he harshly shoved it away.

Not one word had been overlooked, he had gone over every single thing with a fine-toothed comb looking for answers, for something, anything that could give him even a hint. A clue of some type.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And it was not helping his temper in the slightest.

It didn't help that the task the Fates had assigned him kept repeating itself inside his head and angering him even more.

That pathetic goblin was lucky he got off as easily as he did with the window. If the Horned King didn't enjoy hurting him so much he would have been dead a long time ago.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered the staircase full of broken china. That goblin was beginning to be more trouble than he was worth, and the Horned King couldn't help but think that the Invisibles had had an indirect (Or direct) effect on him to make him act like this.

The Creeper had never been a troublemaking problem in the past, but then when the imbeciles had came to town they had taken him along for the ride like an escape trip from a mental hospital.

The Horned King had no idea how many Invisible servants there were, only that they were always around, doing absolutely everything possible to annoy him out of his mind.

Come to think of it, they had been rather quiet lately.

Not a single insult had been thrown his way, or random items flying around the room for quite some time now.

It wasn't like the Invisibles to be quiet.

Right on cue, the door to his chambers was kicked open violently, sending it smashing into the wall behind.

The Horned King jumped in surprise at the sudden entrance, for the first time in several centuries, as a wind flooded his chambers, causing anything made of fabric to flap for a moment before it died down.

Coolly composing himself, the Horned King glared murder at the empty doorframe and opened his mouth to snarl something, but the Invisible got there first.

"You Idiotic, Tyrannical, Dysfunctional, Narrow-Minded MORON! Do You Care About Your Soul At ALL?!"

The Invisible screeched in rage.

The Horned King stared in complete shock. Nobody had ever dared to speak to him like that before.

"Do You Even KNOW The Chance You Were Given When The Fates Released You From The Cauldron?!"

The Invisible screamed at him.

The Horned King's eyes shimmered, and he opened his mouth to snarl something, but the Invisible was still going.

"You Don't Deserve To Live! If You Want To Go Back To The Cauldron And Spend The Rest Of Eternity, Then Fine, But Don't You Dare Make Avalina Pay For YOUR Stupidity!"

"Silence!"

The Horned King snarled, but the Invisible, for the very first time, disregarded orders.

"You Go Down In That Dungeon And Look At What You've Done! That Girl Was Your Only Hope Of Saving Yourself And You Lost Your Chance! Go Down There, NOW!"

The pure, undiluted rage surpassed anything the Horned King had ever seen. No one dared to act anything less than a shivering coward in his presence, and the Horned King was reminded here rather sharply that the Invisibles were not just any servants.

They were minors to the Fates themselves, and therefore extremely powerful beings all on their own, more than capable of killing someone in an infinite number of ways simply by snapping their fingers.

At least, he assumed they had fingers.

Thus was his hunch correct that they only obeyed orders when they felt like it.

Glaring daggers at the Invisible, he hissed furiously, his voice scarcely above a whisper, "*I* give the orders around here, Slave. Not you, not the Fates. . .Me. And you will *Not* attempt to order me around again. Are we clear?"

A scream of fury rose from the Invisible, right as a rush of wind flooded out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

The silence in the room seemed very loud, compared to the chaos that had just transpired.

After several, long minutes, the Horned King slowly got up from his throne and headed deliberately to the door.

He hadn't bothered to visit his prisoner since he had locked her up, he might as well do it now. Not because the Invisible said to, but because he had just finished his personal agenda for the day.

He hadn't bothered to give the girl that much thought, having been busy with his research, but he supposed now would be as good a time as any to see if she would willingly stay with him now.

If he had been honest with himself,he would've realized that that wasn't the only reason he had stayed away.

He had handled hundreds of prisoners in his long existence, and they all had their breaking points. This one would be no different.

Judging by the manner of communication the Invisible had used, something was either seriously wrong with her, or, she was dead.

The Horned King felt a very odd little twitch in his chest at the latter thought.

Slowly, he descended the stairs and entered the dungeon, expecting to see the typical, broken, starving prisoner willing to give to his demands, but then again. . .he wasn't quite sure what he expected to find.

He approached her cell and looked down, taking in the scene before him as nonchalantly as someone else might look at food after having just eaten.

The girl lay on her right side, eyes closed, her arms wrapped around her midsection and her legs pulled up as close as possible, no doubt trying to stay warm. Yet, all her muscles were lax and limp, proving she was not conscious.

Even from this distance, it was obvious she hadn't eaten properly in several days.

A large, purple bruise stretched across her left cheekbone, spreading slowly to the others parts of her face. It had obviously been made by a great deal of force, and rather recently too.

And she wasn't moving.

The Horned King stood right beside the bars, staring fiercely at her, trying to decide if she was still alive or not.

He felt the Invisibles enter the room, and he irritably motioned for them to open the cell door, which they complied to.

Crossing the few feet to where she lay, he stared down at her for a few moments, before casually leaning down and placing his thumb and pointer finger lightly on opposite sides of her throat, below her jawbone, realizing how cold she felt.

That wasn't a favorable sign.

The bruises around her neck from where he had grabbed her last time, he noticed, were just now beginning to fade.

Feeling, he found a pulse, but it was so faint. . .hardly there at all. There may as well have not even been one.

Straightening up, he stared down at her, his face an icy mask.

How she had managed to get in such bad shape so quickly was mildly surprising. Most of his prisoners lasted a little longer under the same circumstances. If his memory served him correctly (Which it nearly always did) she had been down here. . .two weeks today.

'So,' he mused, correcting himself, 'She lasted a little longer than most, at less than half their age. Impressive.'

"She stopped eating yesterday, Sire," an Invisible spoke from the entrance.

The Horned King did not acknowledge them, but he heard it plainly.

'That is. . .strange. Most mortals go mad for food of any kind after being starved like this. This is the first one to refuse it after a period of time. Hm. . .'

He stared down at her motionless form, thinking.

'She won't live to dawn tomorrow if she's left here. She probably won't live at all.'

Reaching down again, he placed his fingers around her neck, feeling for the vertebrae, thinking.

One quick twist, and it would be over for both of them. It would be the most merciful death he had ever dealt to anyone.

She wouldn't feel a thing.

His fingers tightened slightly, causing her faint breathing to become a little more labored. He could barely feel the little draft of it on the edge of his wrist.

Why did he hesitate? He should just do it now. She wasn't worth his time, and in this state she was completely useless.

She had been useless from the start.

The girl's eyes weakly came open just a little, looking right at him.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Even in the gloom, the Horned King could see the brilliant green, with the rays of gold fanning out over it, lending a sunfilled forest sort of look to them. But they looked so dull and faded now. . .

The girl's eyes flickered shut, and he realized she had not been focusing on him. He didn't know if she had even seen anything.

Probably not.

Her faint pulse fluttered lightly against his fingers like a caged butterfly, pushing against the bars that held it, as if crying for life.

After another long moment, the Horned King straightened up, the girl's head moving back slightly to its original position as he released his hold.

After staring for another long moment, he slowly stepped away and ordered the Invisibles.

"Care for the girl."

Not bothering to look back, he ascended the steps as he heard them working down below.

'Child, you can boast something no one else in the entire world can,' he thought darkly to himself.

'The Horned King spared you.'

He sought for some feeling of disgust toward the pathetic mortal, of scorn, but he felt nothing.

The only one he currently had loathful feelings for was himself. He couldn't believe what he had just done.

'I tried to kill her and failed. Again. Instead I allow the Invisibles to try and save her life, knowing that she will more than likely be dead before morning. I should have ended it right then. Why do I stoop to such a pathetic level? I am a monster. I am heartless. I kill without mercy. Yet I nearly did, just now. Why? It is not weakness, of that I am sure. I know no such thing.'

Only one thought answered him.

'Avalina.'

Brushing the word away, which proved to be more difficult than he would have liked, he settled on his decision as the Fates' warning rang softly inside his head.

'She may yet prove useful.'

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