Page 81 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“What is it?” she asks, her voice a calm, soothing whisper. Then she gets up and sits next to me in my bed. “Gods, you’re burning up.” She places her hands on my body, right over my lungs, and a second later I can breathe.

“I’m fine,” is all I can say. When I finally am able to catch my breath, she gives me a look and I know she wants more. “Bad dream, it’s fine. Go back to bed.” Then I say, “I apologize for waking you.”

“Don’t worry,” Aralia says with a small shake of her head.

When it sounds like she’s fallen back to sleep, I grab my notebook where I’ve started writing the dreams.

I must’ve been six, maybe the early months of seven, if Bernice were there. Why am I dreaming of killing Bernice? Yeah, he was an asshole, but I never wanted to kill him. I was six.

I start writing. And when I grow tired of writing and hot in the room, I leave for a walk.

These past few days, Lucian has occupied my mind for more time than I’d like to admit, and in turn, I’ve been ignoring him more than I’d like to admit.

It doesn’t matter what I feel, what matters is who he is, and I remind myself of that often. He’s going to be king, and if he ever finds out who I really am he’s gonna change his mind about me inspiring endearment.

Besides, he’s just a means to an end, I tell myself. A way to find my mom. Someone willing to break Soman law.

He’s irreplaceable. He knows too much to get away now.

I walk to the lake, out of habit from meeting Lucian here every week to train. Sitting at the edge, I dip my feet in the cool water and feel marginally better. I rest my hands behind me and look at the sky, counting the stars. I kind of relate to them. Everyone is looking, but no one is close enough to really see them. At least, in the stars’ case, they’re not purposely keeping everyone at arm’s length.

They’re that way by coincidence, I’m here by necessity.

Suddenly, everything goes black. Like I can’t see a thing, black. The chill that comes with the darkness tells me they’re shadows, which I’ve only ever experienced at Lucian’s hand.

“Lucian?” I call. No response.

They don’t feel like Lucian’s shadows.

Then those shadows are wrapping around me, constricting my throat, my mouth, and I can’t breathe again. Someone grabs my shoulders, and it’s not Lucian.

Instinctively, I smash my head back, right into the Lucent’s nose. I hear them groan and feel their magic slipping from around my mouth, but my vision is still compromised. I start kicking and punching in every direction, hoping to hit them. Then they catch my fist, twist my arm all the way around, and I hear a pop. I can’t help but let out a cry. Then I kick, once, twice before they catch my ankle and flip me so hard I’m on my back.

I pull my dagger from my waistband. I haven’t slept without it since Aralia gave it to me, same with the letter opener, which I also have on me.

I’m starting to see stars from the lack of oxygen when I feel pressure in my shoulder. Instinctively, I reach for the pain and my hand is met by the hilt of a blade that burns. Then I kick hard before standing. I hit their knees.

I slash my dagger in every direction, ignoring the dull ache in my shoulder. They grab my wrist, overpowering me and forcing my injured arm down, and I swear it hurts more than the blade in my shoulder.

My dagger falls from my hand, and there’s no time to pick it up. But now I know where this Lucent is in relation to me.

I pull the knife that’s lodged in my shoulder out, and the second I do it feels like layers of skin are being ripped from my palm. I refrain from letting out a scream and sink it into their shoulder. I’m surprised when I don’t hear a yell, or feel another punch.

And if I hit their shoulder, why do I hear them gurgling?

The shadows dissipate, leaving me standing in the clear night with a man at my feet and a knife lodged in his throat.

The hilt is red, and he is dead.

I fall to my knees, blood-curdling pain rippling through my arm and shoulder as I bleed out. My shirt—Aralia’s shirt—is entirely soaked, but her black jacket conceals it enough.

What am I going to do? There’s no way I can carry him, not with my shoulder, and there’s no way I can get someone to heal my shoulder, not without telling them what happened.

Not without admitting I’m a killer.

I’m a killer. A killer who’s likely to bleed out if I don’t do something.

I just have to get the Lucent into the lake, then I can worry about bleeding out.

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