Page 14 of A Fate so Wicked

The tip of a boot nudged me in the shoulder. Rough and uncaring. “She doesn’t look good, man. The wraith’s venom has probably spread to her bones. Are you sure this will work?”

“It has to.”

The deep voices blurred together as unconsciousness pulled me into its grips. It sounded like there were two of them, maybe more. Their conversation blended with my own thoughts. Soon, I couldn’t decipher whose was whose.

The floor tilted, and I held onto the ground—my eyelids fluttering open to see my mother at the far end of the cell. My fingertips itched to reach for her. Finding traction in the dirt, only for the river’s tide washed her away. Crows cawed in the distance. Men laughed.

I shook my head, coming to—panic squeezing my chest. The way my imagination jumbled with reality, I couldn’t guarantee anyone was there. But I couldn’t take any chances. I couldn’t go down yet.

“Please, no. No, no!” I flailed my limbs in every direction, fighting off invisible assailants, but I met nothing but air. My head weighed a hundred pounds, throbbing with each movement. I was desperate to escape. Reaching to the bottomless depths of my core, I searched for the strength to run, but only met emptiness.

A flash of golden light filled the room, scorching my skin like it did in the forest, licking my body like a blazing fire.

I screamed.

Cursed.

Begged for it to end—and my screams traveled to the edge of the world until there was nothing left.

Upon waking again, a heavy pang of disappointment squeezed my chest, its weight a palpable, leaden presence. I wished whoever came into my cell would’ve killed me. Spared me. Showed me mercy instead of keeping me locked away in a grimy dungeon while I awaited whatever punishment would come.

But there wasn’t time to panic. I needed to keep as calm as possible and formulate an actual plan to get home without drawing suspicion. Over my dead body would I be married off to one of those demonic creatures.

Perching myself against the wall, I expected my body to scream in protest, but … I was fine. Refreshed. Only the lingering fragments of a headache remained. I pulled my pant leg up and gasped. There was no gash. No yellow puss. Not even dried blood lingered in its place. It was as if the water creature—wraith—attack had never happened.

Like I imagined it.

Why would they heal me? Unless, of course, I imagined that too. Maybe I was going mad.

“Hello,” a small voice squeaked.

I startled, scrambling into the far corner of the cell—as if the walls would suck me in.

There was a little giggle. “Oh, I won’t hurt you, human.” A fluffy tan and white animal, no larger than my palm, stared at me. Its big brown irises took up half its face.

My brows knitted together, and I pointed to my chest. “Are you … did you … just talk to me?”

Sure, I’d joke I could talk to Sugarfoot, but she never spoke any words. It was her mannerisms. A silly quirk, if you will. However, this creature, just like the one in the water, actually talked. I wasn’t sure how such a thing was possible. And it made my skin crawl.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Its bat ears twitched.

I rubbed my temples, and it grinned, clasping its paws together. It appeared to be a chipmunk or a mouse but with a long, curly tail. A woodland animal of sorts, but nothing I’d ever seen or talked to. It seemed harmless enough.

“I’m sorry. What are you?”

“A felk, obviously.” It plopped down on its butt. “Do you have a name, human?”

I paused, wondering if I should respond. “Elowyn,” I offered, submitting to the nagging voice inside my head telling me I could trust it.

“El-o-wyn,” she—definitely a female—enunciated my name as if it were tasting it on its tongue. “I’m Pipion. But my friends call me Pip.” Her pink nose flared. “You’ve been sleeping a long time. You smell funny.”

I pulled my tunic to my nose and inhaled, my face squinting from the stench. She wasn’t wrong—I smelled awful. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Three days.”

“Three days!”

Pipion shushed me, waving her paws through the air. “Keep your voice low, they’ll hear you.”

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