Page 115 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

I bit at my cuticles, making little dots of blood form around my nails. “I panicked. I’m sorry.”

He rubbed my shoulders, trying his best to soothe me. “I think there’s one more before we enter Ryft’s Edge. So, we should be at the inn in no time.”

“Great, I’m going to shut my eyes for a bit. Wake me up if any harpies come wanting my dregs.”

Tharan let out a warm laugh. “Technically, you’re getting her dregs.”

“I don’t want to think about that.” Pulling my hood over my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

Two soldiers stood at the end of the Ryft. Beyond, the bronze spires of the castle rose out of the land, reaching into the heavens. I swallowed hard, bracing myself for the inevitable.

“Farmers?” an older officer said, looking at the apples in the back of our wagon.

“Yes, sir, the finest apples in all of Moriana.” A lie. Tharan had enchanted a pile of leaves, but they’d never know.

“Mind if I have one?” the guard said, reaching into the back of the cart.

Gripping the seat tightly, I tried to calm my nerves.

Tharan caught his hand before he touched the apples. “Here, have mine. I was saving it because it was the best of the bunch. But a hardworking officer like yourself deserves it more than I do.”

The graying guard took the apple from Tharan’s hand, giving him a nod of thanks.

“Greenseed, the name’s Greenseed. For your list.”

The old guard waved us off. “Keeping track of humans is useless. It’s the magus the king cares about. Be on your way.”

I gave the old man the best smile I could conjure. “Have a good day!” I called as we passed into the Highlands.

The old guard raised his apple in a salute.

Our journey to cross the Ryft consumed the entire day, leaving me famished and my nerves frayed.

The castle towered above us, a haunting presence reminiscent of a scorned lover. My stomach churned with unease, a strong urge to flee tugging at me. I had grown stronger and wiser since my first arrival here. Yet, as I gazed up at the castle’s bronze roof,I couldn’t shake the feeling of being a lamb awaiting its impending slaughter.

I took a shaky breath, grabbing Tharan’s hand to keep myself from bolting.

Think of Baylis. You are doing this for Baylis.I repeated those words over and over as we neared the entrance to the city.

The wealthy lived in beautiful townhomes and lavish estates, while the working class and the poor lived on the city’s outskirts. Pedestrians walked cobblestone streets buying their dinner without a care in the world.

Memories lingering like ghouls in the shadows haunted me as we trotted through the bustling city. My senses clawed at my skin, begging to be released from this torture. Taking a deep breath, I channeled my nerves into something more productive—thoughts of revenge.

42AELIA

The cottageTharan arranged for us exuded coziness, furnished with well-worn pieces, a crackling fire, and candles flickering in the windows.

Tharan laid the castle map onto the little oak table. Cigarette in hand, his toe tapped the floor nervously.

I examined the servants’ clothes—a simple white linen smock with a thick collar made of solid gold.

“What are you doing?” Tharan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“These are too clean. Servants wear the same frock until it rips from the collar.” Taking soot from the fire, I smudged it on the uniforms. “There, that’s better. They still look new, but at least they look a little more lived in.”

“Smart,” Tharan said, rubbing his chin with his hand.

“Not just a pretty face.” I gave him a girlish smile.

---