The Dark Star (Maddox) THIRTY The Dark Star MADDOX MADDOX AWOKE, STRAPPED to a sturdy wooden chair, in a dark chamber lit by a single shaft of light. He and Daphne were illuminated, but he made out shadowy forms moving in the darkness. He blinked against the brightness of the light. “The fuck?” Maddox looked at his bonds: solid bands of starmetal clasped by a locking mechanism. “Your fellow inmate killed you,” Daphne said, making notes in her ledger. She reached for his wrist and checked for a pulse. “Uh…where am I?” “Shh. I need to sense your health.” “I’m fine,” Maddox said irritably. “Why am I bound in an Inquisition torture chair?” “If it were a torture chair, you’d be much less comfortable.” She smiled. “The bindings are just a standard precaution. The last time my agents encountered your body, they had to cut the head off a revenant.”
