Ch. 27: Deal With a Devil

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The guards hadn't taken off the shackles. Mad lay on the stone floor of the first cell he'd woken up in and grimaced when the metal scraped against the tender skin of his wrists.

He wasn't complaining though. Mad was just happy he could move around now. He'd been tied to that chair for so long he'd been convinced his muscles would have frozen that way permanently.

He lay stretched out, the stone cool against his back, staring into the darkness. He wondered idly if Mavros was going to make him wait for much longer.

He swung wildly between wanting to just get it over with and hoping that Killian would somehow manage to kill Mavros before she killed him.

But Mad wasn't foolish enough to have any real hope.

He didn't bother to get up when the door opened, light stabbing painfully at his eyes. Mad sighed. He was getting tired of these stretches of temporary blindness. The light almost wasn't worth it anymore.

Mad raised his hands to shield his eyes and growled when the chain smacked into his cut cheek, sending a flare of new pain through his face.

When Mad's vision resolved, he was more than surprised to find Rakta standing over him. Mad yawned and sat up, leaning tiredly against the wall. "Well. That was quicker than I had expected."

Rakta closed the door behind him, then set the lantern he was holding in the center of the room, lowering the wick so that the flame didn't burn quite as brightly. "I'm not taking you to your execution Hatter."

"Oh," Mad sighed. He didn't say anymore. If the Ace was here for a reason, Mad wasn't going to jump through hoops to find out what it was. He just watched as Rakta sat across from him, the low light making him look like a ghoul.

Mad couldn't tell if the shadows under his eyes were real, or just because of the dark. Either way, he looked tired. Sick, almost. His usually neat hair was mussed, longer than usual, hanging into his eyes and the set of his shoulders was the set of a very tired man.

Rakta leaned against the door, elbows resting on his knees. "I'm on the only side Hatter."

Mad raised an eyebrow, but still didn't speak. Obviously Rakta had something he wanted to say, and since he was here, that meant Mad was the only one he could say it to.

Rakta rubbed at his eyes. "Mavros made it that way on purpose. She killed... everyone, Hatter. Everyone, but me. She didn't kill me. She just... added me to the collection." Rakta tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "She tore everything apart."

Mad hesitated, remembering what had happened the last time he'd asked an Ace anything. But Rakta was practically begging to be asked. Quietly, Mad said, "So why don't you do something about it? Why don't you kill her?"

Rakta looked back down and stared at Mad, his eyes the color of dying embers. "I'm going to."

Mad's breath caught and he couldn't hide the shock on his face. There was no way this was real and the only thing Mad could find to say was, "Color me surprised Diamond. That's rather honorable, saving Wonderland and all."

"Honorable?" Rakta snarled. "No."

Mad frowned, eyebrows pulling together. "But..."

"I do not care what Mavros has done to Wonderland Hatter! She could have burned the rest of it down for all I would care." Rakta shook his head. "I am an Ace, Hatter. We are not... honorable creatures. It just doesn't matter to us." He stopped again, scowling at nothing. "Vengeful, though. That is another matter entirely."

Rakta bared his teeth, his words hissing out, a long repressed fury finally seeing the light of day, so to speak. "She killed them. She killed my Royals." Rakta paused, pain and grief etching themselves into his face. Almost like he was desperately trying not to say it, like it would reveal too much, he whispered "Even the Princess. She was nineteen Madison. She was so young. She would never have hurt anyone."

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