“I don’t have to give youanysort of information.” I push him and walk away once again.
A tight grip forms around my hair, drags me backwards, and I fall to the ground. The rocks underneath me scratch my legs.
“Listen carefully, little girl.” He says, his hand gripping my cheeks, my eyes looking at him while feeling terrified. “You will tell me where your little rat dressed up as a knight is, and then I’ll leave you alone and never bother you ever again. Can you do a simple thing like that?” He smiles at me, something evil inside of him shining through. “It’s not you that I want to harm. The archer who gets his head will receive a big pile of golden coins.”
How dare he speak those words?
Suddenly, it feels like wire is being tied around my throat, making me incapable of speaking.
“Tell me where he is!” He screams at me, his face closer to mine than I’d like it to.
My mouth starts wobbling uncontrollably, “He’s dead, you son of a bitch!” I scream back with eyes full of tears. And before I know it, spit flies out my mouth and lands in his eye, my foot kicking him right between his legs.
With his body falling to the ground, I grab the deer into my arms and lift from the ground in desperate need to escape him. I can hear his footsteps following me as his boots smash against the rocks.
Feeling more paranoid than before, I look at the map once again, trying to figure out how long it will take to get to Mermaid City.
Chapter 30
Genevieve
“It’s not you that I want to harm. The archer who gets his head will receive a big pile of golden coins.”I repeat Costello’s harsh words in my head over and over again.
Did Ector’s father put a price on his dear life without Ector not having a single clue? Or did he know?
Why in the world would his father do such a thing? He didn’t manage to kill his own son, so he had to have someone else do it if they got the chance? Wasn’t Ector’s mother’s life enough to take? Was he so desperate to take the life of his own son as well?
What could lead a person to have that type of hatred towards someone? Or was it pure hatred towards himself? Sometimes when people can’t change and don’t see the strength that they possess, they either run, become better, or destroy the light somewhere else. They destroy the light in people out of jealousy, jealousy that was shaped out of insecurity. Those people know that they’ll never be able to own that light and pureness themselves.
I will never understand those people. They see the brightness in others, the brightness that they want for themselves. They see the potential in others too. Why do they keep seeking it out inothers but refuse to see it in themselves? They refuse to see it in themselves, yet so many others do.
It’s easy for others to see their light, only for them to rip that vision into a thousand pieces out of self-hatred. A hatred either created by others or themselves.
It’s so somber, seeing some who believe in themselves try to reach their beloved dreams that they’ve been longing for since childhood, and others tearing those people apart.
The truth drains me. The thought of Ector’s father probably being a person like that, who felt so miserable about himself that he felt the need to tear apart his family, abuse them both mentally and physically. And eventually kill them.
Theonlypositive thing that came out of all this is thathedied as well, before he could continue hurting others. But he also killed the man I slowly started to love, the man whoneededlove.
My eyes tear up again, but I refuse to break down. Instead, the heavy feelings quickly become fuel. Fuel to continue, not only for myself but for everyone that I so deeply love and care for. Fuel for a promise that I once made.To be a warrior,no matter what life puts me through.
—
Landing on the ground again as the sun starts to set, I feel powerful. Feeling like I’m in control for once, not my feelings, not someone else, only me.
Grabbing the bloody dagger, I make a hole in my dress and tear half of it off, the lengths ending at my knees. Ripping off a part from the leftover fabric, I tie it into a loop.
Taking a hold around my hair, the memory of Castello grabbing it from behind and so foolishly throwing me to the ground, I doubt the choice I’m about to make.Hair holdsmemories. And with that, the sharp silver blade cuts through each of my curly strands, leaving my hair at shoulder length.
As the hair falls to the ground, I remind myself that it will have grown back to the same length in a few days.
Grabbing the circle of pink fabric, I put my blond and blushy blood-stained hair into a ponytail, feeling the cool breeze brushing past my neck. It makes the hair on my body stand up as a shiver runs through my body.
I rip apart some more fabric and tie it around my upper thigh, making it easier for me if I need the dagger quickly. Placing the blade close to my skin, I let myself pretend that I’m in danger to see if my brilliant plan would work. Quickly, my hand reaches for the blade that clings to my leg, grabs it, and then points it out in the air.
This will work fine.
You can do anything that you put your mind to. My mother used to tell me when I was a child. Remembering the moment, I make sure to take her words to heart.
