Page 171 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

The kappa’s venom is getting to my head. There are either three more of them, or I’m losing my grip on reality. I don’t care which it is.

Though I was waiting for the kappa to make another death-threatening move before I made mine, it’s still looking at me. They’re looking at me. At least, I think they are. They don’t seem to have eyes.

I swing my merai blade through the snake whose teeth are prickling into my skin. It recoils with a shriek, and when the kappa runs, I shout so loud that the birds stop singing. “What about vengeance?” It stops as if it understands me. “I killed your friends.”

It turns over its faux shoulder, or whatever it has. I don’t know its anatomical makeup.

I hold out my arms, dropping the merai blade. “Come on, get me back.”

It scurries away. What is wrong with this universe? I pull the arphac blade from the sheath at my waist and send it flying into its back.

I fall when it does. The world spins so much that I might as well be upside down. My arm is damn near a blood bath, foaming at the two deepest holes from the kappa’s fangs. I tip my head back into the grass, staring into the carousel sky.

You got me again, universe.

* * *

Something kicks my shoulder. I twist away from the shoe.

“Are you an idiot?”

My eyes fly open, right into hers. Shoulder-length hair envelopes the world around me. Everything looks pretty here, the sun shining in between her locks turning the world a shade of orange.

She backs away entirely until I can see her no longer. Then she grabs my hand, pulls me to my feet, and wraps her arm around me. I’m half walking and half dragging.

“Do you have a death wish?” she says. “You can’t be out here right now.”

“Perhaps,” I say. This venom has gotten to my head; the world has a glassy sheen to it, as though my eyes are covered in tears. They could be. “What happened to staying away?”

“I thought you had better survival instincts than this.” Even with my blood spilling on her, she sounds more annoyed than concerned.

“If bleeding out grants me your attention, perhaps I’ll try it more.”

She stops and pulls her arm away from my torso. I almost fall to my face. “Are you kidding me?” My feet grow wobbly, and I reach for her. She steps back, and I fall to my knees. Looking down at me, she says, “You ruined my life. You have my full attention because I should be burying a knife in your back, not carrying you to the infirmary.”

To be stabbed in the back by such pretty hands would be a privilege.

Surely I am delusional.

“Why are you?” I ask, looking into her eyes. Something’s wrong—they look more red than brown.

“I heard about Azaire,” she whispers.

I look away, red eyes be damned. “Save your condolences.”

She kneels in front of me, picking up my chin gently and pulling my face to her. “I’m sorry. No condolences. Just the things you can’t say.”

“I don’t want any of it.”

“It’s your fault,” she says. “You do know that, don’t you?” I recoil from her touch that suddenly feels colder than it ever has before. “You pulled him out here, because of your desire for revenge. He had no skin in this game.”

“How do you know this?”

“Wendy told me,” she whispers menacingly.

“Wendy?”

“Oh, yeah. She blames you too. You didn’t stab him, but you put him in front of the blade.” She’s running her finger along a blade she didn’t have a moment ago, drawing blood.

---