Page 87 of Wings of Lies
“Lucille!”
Rage and determination pierced through my fear, feelings that weren’t mine, as water hammered into my mouth and up my nose. I was drowning as the tentacle pulled and pulled, not just dragging me, but pulling something inside me, too.
The cloudy river fizzled behind black specs. The lack of air staked its claim as the noise of the beast and a masculine bellow resonated through the thrashing water.
“Lucy,sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” she said.
“Nooo. Why?” What was it, four in the morning? The birds weren’t even awake yet.
“Sweetie, come on. You have to train and study.”
I groaned, shoving my face further into my pillow. “Why? Because of the deal you made with father?” That reason was getting old. “Let me sleep.”
She pulled my hair to the side, pressing her calloused hand into my back, rubbing circles. I knew what was coming next. A gentle warmth seeped into my spine, sending an arrow of calm straight to the heart of my grouch monster.
“That’s cheating,” I mumbled.
She laughed. “But it makes getting up easier, doesn’t it?” Then something changed. Her hand on my back tingled, or maybe it wasn’t my back. And the bubble of happiness in my chest turned to burning pressure.
“Come on. Breathe, Lucille.”
Electricity tickled my lips.
“Breathe, damn it!”
Pressure built, and within seconds, I heaved and hacked up gritty liquid.
“That’s it. Get it out,” he said as a wet hand rubbed my back, sending that absurdly pleasant tingle across my entire torso.
Wait…
I shifted around, wide-eyeing Aspen who looked soaked through. His surprisingly dry cloak covered my bottom half, which I yanked up to cover my chest.
The river rippled, bringing me back to the cause of the watery puke lingering on my lips. I scurried back, crushing grass, until I hit a tree, curling my knees up to my raging chest. Huddled in his cloak, I watched tentacles undulate in the murky blue. Aspen assessed it, sword out, until the river settled, and the razor-sharp wormy limbs disappeared.
“What—” I heaved.
“Tusoteuthis, a giant ancient squid,” Aspen supplied, sheathing his sword and walking over to me.
“You—sent me into that river—knowing there was a giant—killer squid in it!” My breathing, already uneven, came in and out in angry pants.
Aspen squatted in front of me, composed in the face of my outburst. “Breathe.” He demanded.
“I am,” I yelled, clenching my fists.
The water rippled, and I half expected the creature to fling out its slimy limbs and grab Aspen from behind.
“That squid is an ancient protector of this river. I didn’t expect it to be this far down. It usually stays far North. Now breathe.”
“I’m trying!” I waved around my hands, hyperventilating.
Aspen squeezed the hilt of his sheathed sword. Chaotic thoughts pounded to the beat of my erratic heart. A giant ancient squid of Elora bit me in the leg with tentacle teeth.Wait, my legs.
I lifted Aspen’s cloak, peered down, and touched the back of my thighs while covering myself from view. My fingers came back smeared with blood.
“Shit.”
“Hey, breathe. It’s okay.” Aspen watched me with a solemn expression.
