Page 95 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
Helpless.
WEAK.
Then they began to sound familiar, as if I was remembering, not hearing them.
The priest’s scream.
TantheIssa’s laughter.
My father’s last breath.
Coward.
The First Daughter is a coward, running away.
Silas was right.
My mouth opened in a soundless scream as my skin burned away, my flesh got shredded from my bones, and my skull crashed in on itself.
Then it was gone.
The voices stopped, my body no longer burned, as I was still twisted in the wagon, smelling of sheep.
“That’s it,” the courier whispered soothingly. I knew he was talking to the horse, but I let his words wash over me just the same. “You were so brave. You always are.”
How could he still talk after that onslaught of screams? Had he not heard it? Impossible.
I loosed a breath and rolled my neck as much as possible. My gaze fell on the crack in the wagon–and I froze.
It was nighttime.
Impossible.
The sun had just barely set a few seconds ago.
Unless…unless something else had happened in that darkness.
“We’re almost home, girl,” the courier muttered, sounding relieved himself.
Were we out of the crater or not?
We had to be. He said they’d get there by midnight.
Shit.
Had I lost my chance?
Only one way to find out.
Standing up was an almost impossible chore on the rickety road. My legs had fallen asleep about an hour after leaving the city and no amount of massaging and punching the muscle could relieve the crawling sensation in them.
I struggled to move. There was no way I’d be able to gingerly step between the jars now–all I could hope was that the courier couldn’t distinguish between the clunky ruckus I made and the one forced by the road.
But he noticed something was wrong–the carriage slowed.
Shit, shit,shit.
Crisp, warm air barreled against me as I yanked the leather flap away. I took a deep breath, sent a prayer, and jumped.
