Page 17 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

“Enough.” She cut me off before I could come up with an excuse. The tip of her dagger burned my skin. “It’s time for me to repay the favor.” A smile of razors crossed her fish-like face. “Get up. There’s someone who wants to see you.”

She wrapped a rope of seaweed around my wrists. The sliminess turned my stomach.

We walked through the docks to a warehouse on stilts. Waves slapped the shore beneath as the tide rose. Once inside, she escorted me to a small room in the back, where a single candle sat on a bare table next to a wooden chair. What was she planning? What other ghost would be haunting me tonight?

Bile rose in my throat at the stench of dead fish permeating every pore of the place.

“Sit. And don’t you dare try to run away,” Ursula said, pointing her dagger at the empty chair.

I took a seat, focusing my mind on hers.Let me in, Ursula.

“Get out of my head.”

You don’t have to do this. Whatever this is about. We can fix it.

“I said, get out of my head.”

She clasped iron manacles around my wrists. Iron negated magic in the blood. I sucked in a shallow breath. The cold metal seared my skin.

I tried to push further, but it was no use. The iron, combined with dust, left my head spinning. Every strand of her mind I grasped slipped through my fingers. I gave up.

“Sit here. I’ll be right back.”

Head heavy, I slumped in my chair, waiting for her to leave.

Dampness chilled my bones. I surveyed the room for potential escape routes. One door leading to the dock, and a tiny window too small for me to fit through, were my only options.

Hushed whispers debated outside the door—Ursula’s smooth, sultry voice and another harsher, more cracked one.

My eyes flitted from the window to the door. Could I fit through it? Maybe if I wriggled just right.

“Right this way,” Ursula said, unlocking the door. I focused on the rhythm of the waves through the slits in the warped floor.

My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered, graying man. Brutus Strong, Chief Commander of the Highland army, his face full of scars from a lifetime of battles. The years of a mortal life left his once handsome face cracked and frayed.

Breaths rattled in my chest. I had to get out of here.

“Hello, Aelia. You’re looking…” His brows knitted in disgust. “Well, you’ve looked better.”

I cringed at his voice, remembering all the times he’d laughed while Gideon let him beat me.

“Always the gentleman, Brutus. Why are you here?”

A smile crossed his lined face. “King Gideon doesn’t appreciate his belongings disappearing.”

“It’s almost like I didn’t want to be found,” I practically spat the words at him.

The sound of an empty glove hitting my face rang in my ears before the sharp pain of the slap stung my cheek. Stars clouded my vision, and pain shot through my lip as the freshly healed scrape ripped anew, filling my mouth with the metallic taste of blood.

Launching myself into his mind, I hit a wall of steel, shooting me out as quickly as I had come in.

Brutus barked out a laugh. “I’ve been trained, little bird. You won’t get in here.” He tapped his temple with a bulbus finger.

Rage burned in my veins.

“Hey—” Ursula stepped in between us. “You said she wouldn’t be harmed.”

A backhand to the face sent Ursula crashing to the floor.

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