I fight against him, bucking and writhing. But each pull of a breath in my lungs slows my heart, weakening the magic racing in my blood.
The previous flashes of visions I’ve had in my head blink out one by one. The last thing I see before everything fades to black is a four second flash that repeats in a cycle.
A young woman with long blonde hair and stark blue eyes. Freckles dust her nose with a glisten of spent tears trailing down her cheeks. She sinks her fingers down into the soil, then pulls up a round black stone.
No.
A black dragon egg.
Theblack dragon egg. One that’s been missing for ages.
Then it repeats. Over and over. Ingraining deeper each time.
Until everything fades to darkness.
Fifty-Six
- MARCELLA -
Three years ago.
I wake in the middle of the night to an eerie feeling. Too strong to ignore. As I lean up in bed, across my room the door handle slowly twists. So slow at first, I’m not entirely sure it is. Especially as I lock my door at night. Sliding off my sheets, I slip out of bed.
The door parts open.
In spills Crawford, his cracked teeth showing in his smile as he finds me. His sword drawn.
I flick my attention to the corner of the room where my sword is. I’ve gotten too comfortable with the idea of a lock on my door protecting me.
“Do you know how many wall sits I’ve had to do because of you?” he hisses, closing the door behind him.
I clench my fists, knowing as well as he does that I won’t be able to get to my sword without a fight. “You sure it had nothing to do with your piss-poor stamina that they thought they were doing you a favor?”
His eyes narrow, so easily goaded. Rather than moving for me, though, he moves away. “Let’s see if you’ll call it piss-poor when I’ve got you bent over.”
Anger stirs within my chest, tempting me to give in to the threat. But I laugh as I say, “If only your skills matched your confidence. Maybe it’sIwho will haveyoubent over.”
He runs for my sword, and I dash after him. Once he grabs it, he swivels to me with an awful grin. Tosses it away.
Someone catches it to my left. One of the other guards, and two more slip into my room. Weapons drawn.
An ambush.
I slowly back up away from the door, running through my best courseof action. There’s the window, but what then? I jump? My daggers are in the bathroom. I can roll over the bed to get to them.
I make a run for it, and they chase after me. As I leap over the bed someone snatches my ankle. Twisting, I rear back and slam my heel out onto one of the guard’s noses with a sickening crunch. He lets go, but the other two grab my wrists, pulling me backward on the bed as Crawford stalks closer with a triumphant smile.
“I figured I’d bring some friends with me,” he says as he uses one hand to loosen his belt. “Word is you’re in the running for General. But between the four of us, I’m sure we can fix that.”
I collect all the saliva in my mouth and spit at his face. “Fuck you.”
Rage ignites in his expression as he wipes it slowly from his face and flings it off. Tossing his sword to the side, he rips his pants down as the third guard with a bloody nose snatches my ankles, holding my legs open around Crawford.
“I’m going to make you regret doing that,” Crawford growls, leaning over me and tugging my nightgown up.
Screaming, I buck and fling, working for my hands, my legs.
My door flings open off the hinges. A man is on the other side.
