Page 67 of The Cruel Dawn
“Our ancestors founded this place,” Ridget says. “Why shouldweabandon our home?”
“Because you and your family could be killed.”
Knock…knock…
Eyebrows furrowed, Ridget exhales heavily and shakes her head. “We will continue to enchant just enough to make them see what their hearts cannot.” She smiles at me. “Why don’t you wash up for dinner? Your favorite room is ready for you.”
I take one last peek out the window, wondering if this inn can truly withstand the Voidful.
The Voidful, including Jamart, Lively and…Sinth, the Dashmala that I killed in Caerno Woods…They all stand at the walls of the Broken Hammer, knocking and knocking.
…
Alone now in the room with the pearl-and-gold doorknob, I release a pent-up breath and regard the clean bedding, the wash area, and the cake of soap. Just an age ago, from this window, I’d had a view of tall, majestic firs and a river that ran swiftly with refreshing clean water. There had been wild turkeys in those woods on the other side of the Duskmoor. No longer. Sludge fills that river—nothing will ever live or survive in that water, not anymore. Those worrisome banners heralding the new god of the golden tree hang from every other post and doorframe. And the Voidful…
I don’t see them anymore.
During my single night here with Jadon, we’d eaten a delicious dinner, and he’d blindfolded me and had laced honey across my tongue and he’d glowed with plum-colored light.
But then…
Shit happened.
I set the bag with theLibrum Esotericaon the bed and cross over to the small washstand and mirror in the corner. My reflection shows a face worn thin with anguish and golden eyes dimmed by exhaustion. I dip my hands into the basin of cool water, and the chill shocks my skin awake. I splash my face, neck, and arms, and let my fingers massage my temples…
“What’s that?” I lean closer to the mirror for a better view of the skin near my hairline.
Flaky.
I scratch at the spot, and the patch of flaky skin widens.
Shit—that stings.
I pinch at that small patch and peel—Ouch!Wincing, I peel that skin away to see a new layer of angrier-looking skin beneath. I spot another patch between my eyebrows, and I scratch at it…
Ouch. Fuck.
Okay, so I’ve been fighting and Spryting all around the realm, and I’m sure my body has tired from moving almost nonstop, but this…decayseems a little…excessive.
But I keep peeling and scratching until the wash basin is filled with dirty water, its surface flecked with pieces of me. And my face: it’s become a patchwork of old skin and new. What will I be left with once I’m done shedding?
I back away from the sink and sit on the bed. I push off my cloak, tight breastplate and tighter boots, and tunic and enjoy fresh air kissing my bare skin. My eyes weigh as much as a mountain, and I rub them to stay awake.
But all of me sags, and I whisper, “Fuck it,” and lie across the bed. I stare up at the ceiling’s wooden beams, and for a moment, I think about keeping watch, about the Voidful outside these walls, but my tired eyes shut, and my mind drifts…
…
Zephar and I ride horses and whoop with joy as we chase a behemoth worupine that shoots its poisonous quills at us from across the meadow. We pull the reins of our horses as the beast crests a hill.
“Let it go,” Zephar says.
I cast an eye to the sky and to the gray clouds slowly smashing against each other.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, a twinkle in my eye.
“I’m starving,” Zephar says, squinting at me.
Hunting makes us ravenous.
