Page 23
Story: Bespelled
My gaze flicks to the walls of the ley line. It’s shaped much like a tunnel, though you wouldn’t know it at the moment. The darkness hides everything except for the faint smudges of starlight far beyond.
With my free hand, I reach around and pull out the arrow from my back, grinding my teeth together and swallowing a scream as I pry the head of it from my flesh, its edges ripping through more muscle. I toss the bloody projectile to the rippling tunnel walls.
“I offer you my blood, violently spilled by an enemy,” I gasp out as the open wound at my back begins to bleed in earnest, “in exchange for the safe passage of me and my familiar to the Khuno River palace.”
What little I can see of the walls ripples, then smooths.
Fuck. It didn’t work.
Without the help of the ley line itself, I won’t be able to find my way to this destination. Instead, Ferox and I will wander along it, hopelessly lost until I either find a way out, or we perish.
Adjusting my hold on Ferox, I reach for the other arrow and dig my fingers into the skin around it. A scream rips from my throat as I pull the second arrowhead out and throw it at the wall. “I offer you my blood, violently spilled by an enemy,” I repeat, “in exchange for the safe passage of me and my familiar to the Khuno River palace.”
This time, the walls hardly even ripple.
“I offer you a memory,” I say to the fae magic, my desperation growing. “In exchange for the safe passage of me and my familiar to the Khuno River palace.”
The walls of the ley line ripple around me, further obscuring the scenery outside.
I take a few steps forward, bringing Ferox with me, but then the walls around me smooth, denying me passage once more.
I cry out. “For gods’ sakes, what do you want? Tears?” I ask. With my free hand, I gesture to my cheeks. “You can have them.”
The ley line’s strange, foreign magic brushes against my face, taking the offered tears.
Still, the wall doesn’t open. I want to scream.
“You already have my blood and my tears. What more do you want?” I ask the darkness. My magic is failing, my blood is streaming down my back, and my body is faint with exhaustion. There’s not much left of me to give.
Why had I not learned to navigate these magical roads without selling little pieces of myself? My ignorance is costing me.
A thought comes to me, one that has me pressing a quivering hand to my stomach. I swallow. There is one more thing?—
“Fine, I’ll tell you a secret: I think I might be pregnant.”
CHAPTER 7
59 AD, SOMEWHERE IN THE NORTHWESTERN AMAZON BASIN
ROXILANA
We’re spitout onto wet soil, mud oozing beneath my boots.
It worked. My body sags with relief. It worked.
I stand, glancing at my surroundings. The sun is setting here, and though the jungle around me makes many sounds, there’s a peaceful, quiet element to this place that’s jarring compared to the shrieking violence of Bosporus.
Ferox’s growl is all the warning I get.
I’m about to turn when a blade is shoved clean through my back. It happens so fast I don’t have time to do more than choke on my own surprise as I glance down at my abdomen, where the bloody tip of a sword juts out.
Roughly, it’s withdrawn, and with its exit, I collapse to my knees, a cascade of blood pouring from the wound. It’s—it’s right where?—
“You cannot know how long I’ve wished to do that.” Eislyn’s beautiful, lilting voice is laced with malice.
With a snarl, Ferox lunges for the fairy. But before he can make it anywhere near her neck, Eislyn brings the hilt of herweapon down on his head. There’s a sickening crunch, and I choke out a scream as my familiar collapses in a heap at my side. The ward that had protected him only minutes ago must’ve disintegrated.
The fae woman walks around to my front, tapping the bloody sword against her side as she appraises me. “I had hoped you’d survive the attack long enough to come here.”
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