Page 142 of A Storm in Every Heart
“Sorry,” the woman says again, “I don’t know how to do this if you can’t sit up. Can you open your mouth at all?”
I don’t know why I feel the urge to obey this strange, disembodied female voice, but I try to open my mouth. It burns, like the bones in my jaw are scraping against each other, and I groan.
“Good, that’s enough!” the woman says.
I feel a splash of water hitting my face again. Some of it gets into my mouth, and I swallow a few times, then force my eyes open, blinking rapidly. I try to focus, and a vaguely familiar set of green eyes swims in front of me. “Lyra?”
“Oh, thank gods!” Lyra says frantically. “I thought you were dead.”
Confusion overwhelms me. I haven’t thought about Lyra Von Bargen in over a century, so why is she here in my hallucination? Bring back Odessa.
“Dessa?” I croak.
“She’s in the castle,” Lyra says quickly, tipping more water into my mouth. “She’s fine, I think. Well, she’s locked up, but she’s not hurt.”
Good. That’s good.
I swallow a few more mouthfuls of water and blink again. I’m starting to realize that this isn’t a hallucination. Magnus’s daughter really is leaning over me, pouring water into my mouth. Maybe I should be concerned that she's working with her father, but I can’t find the energy.
How long have I been here?
“It’s been three days,” Lyra says, as if reading my mind.
Only three days? I would have sworn it had been an eternity.
“I don’t know what to do to help,” Lyra hisses, almost like she’s angry with me. “I can try to get a message to Odessa’s family in Vernallis, but it would take days to get there, and my father will force her to marry him before then. The wedding is supposed to be tomorrow.”
I try to force my mind to focus.Three days. Wedding tomorrow. Odessa.
It takes a long moment for that idea to sink in. When it finally does, rage floods me.I try to make my mouth move, but nothing comes out except another painful moan.
“Is there anyone closer I can contact?” Lyra asks. “Do you have friends nearby?”
My mind is sluggish, slow to connect her words to meaning, but I force myself to focus.
“Jett,” I croak.
Lyra’s eyes go wide with anxiety, and she looms over me, swaying in and out of focus. “Is that a person? Where do I find them?”
My eyes flutter closed again, and Lyra splashes a large amount of water on my face. “Focus, Kastian! Who is Jett? Where do I find him?”
“Border town,” I manage. “By the river.”
“Border town by the river,” she echoes, “…that must be the village near the Weeping Quagmire. Alright. I’ll try, just don’t die before I get back.”
I try to thank her, but the words get caught in my throat. Before I can make another sound, the vision of Lyra shifts again.
I must really be hallucinating, because I swear that Lyra morphs into a tall, bearded man right in front of me.
Lyra doesn’t come back, and the next time I wake up, I wonder if she was ever really here at all.
ODESSA, AGE 16
Dear gods, where is he?
I push through the teeming crowd on the deck of the ship, eyes scanning every face for Kastian. I thought I saw him when I first arrived, but now I’m not so sure.
Of course this would have to be a masked ball.Of course, the one time that finding someone could mean life or death I’m forced to search every single masked face for a glimpse of familiar eyes.
