Page 71 of Wings of Lies
Out of all my wounds, my wrist gave me the least bit of pain.
“Stop acting like you care.”
His expressionless stare narrowed, and he let go of my broken wrist. I met his irritation with a smug smile. Holding his gaze, I found his purple ring, which told me he was part angel and one other.
It was the color of the sky right before the sun disappeared behind the horizon—a dark cobalt sitting next to a deep purple.
If I cared enough, I may have asked him what it meant. Instead, I left to climb into the carriage. My jangling links caught on each step, making me grind my teeth. At least I had a cushioned seat.
Brock clicked, urging the horses on with the reins.
Golden light shone through the trees as we moved, signaling early dawn. Rays swallowed up the leaves. The dew-covered forest shimmered like faceted jewels. Hundreds of specs of light reflected on my skin, and not only my skin, but Brocks, and the horses. All around us golden rays reflected and refracted. It was breathtaking and otherworldly.
It was the first glimpse of the Elora I had hoped to see when I first arrived.
But now, it was difficult to care about the beauty.
“It’s called Aurum Forest. It’s a word for gold. The name’s pretty explanatory at this time of day,” Brock stated.
I ignored him.
“Take it in now. It’ll be the last pleasant thing you’ll see.”
“Ah yes, your bitch queen.” I mirrored his goading tone, hoping to rile him up.
To my surprise, Brock laughed. His throaty laughter shook his long gray beard. “I hope you didn’t say that to the prince.”
I glared. That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. “I did indeed.”
His laughter stopped, bushy eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “The prince doesn’t take kindly to insults to his queen.”
No kidding. The almost sword to the throat and flaming blue eyes weren’t a dead giveaway or anything. But that didn’t mean I was going to stop. They both deserved every insult I had.
“Where is this horrid queen of yours?” I asked.
Brock took his time answering. Clip clops and jangling chains stole my attention until he spoke. “The capital Deava. Most likely tearing apart the last couple of prisoners we gave her.”
“Tearing apart, how?”
A gruesome smile lifted his mustache as his eyes transitioned to a blood red. “I’ve never seen what’s done. You’d have to ask the prince. I only clean up the aftermath.” He rubbed the red beads decorating his beard, looking thoughtful. “She’s pretty gruesome to her victims. Her pit is a mess of limbs and torn bodies. It’s almost full. After she discards you, we’ll have to make arrangements to clear it out.”
I stared at him, taking in his apathetic words.My fate was to be discarded and left to rot on top of a pile of shredded bodies?
“So how much longer do I have with my pitiful life?” I asked, glancing down at my cuffs.
“Three days. Two until we hit the boundary line.”
“Boundary line?”
He focused back on the road. The carriage creaked and groaned as it moved across the rough ground. “Separates her kingdom from The Divide.”
Two days until I was in her impenetrable land. Two days to figure out how to unlock my cuffs, practice my powers, dream-walk, and escape.
Chapter
Eighteen
Time passed, and minutes felt like hours. Bugs that resembled green mosquitoes buzzed around our lunch–a simple meal of bread, cheese, and apples. I nibbled on the apple. Drops of juice fled down my wrist. I licked up the drops, noticing my Binding Rune. I glanced at Brock’s wrist, finding only veins and liver spots.
