“Her magic is in her voice,” the woman reassured. “Stop worrying. As long as she can’t remove that, we’ll be fine. Here, help me.” The woman proceeded to bind Aizel’s hands behind her back. “There. Are you through being afraid of a little girl now?”
“Oh, we did well.” The man’s voice was filled with glee. He was seemingly unconcerned—or just hadn’t noticed—that the woman was making fun of him.
“Yes, yes we did.” The woman smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile.
She appeared to be middle-aged and her clothing was mostly brown and green, with lots of leather straps and belts holding it in place. To Aizel, it appeared almost luxurious, since it consisted of so many layers. But she had also heard that everyone on the continent dressed this way. The woman seemed uncomfortably large as well. Not only was she tall, but her body matched her bones, as though she had never missed a meal in her life.
Aizel had the sudden urge to slap the conniving, gleeful expression off the woman’s face. She instinctively moved her arms to follow through on her desire, but the rope bit into her wrist.
No longer needing to hold her in place, the man stepped around her.
If Aizel thought the woman looked well-fed, she was shocked when she saw the size of the man. She had never seen anyone so tall or broad. She couldn’t see a single bone on his body. He looked to be made purely of muscle.
It was unnerving. All the people she had ever known had sharp elbows and sallow cheeks.
She had always considered herself quite strong—swimming every day had given her a dense and wiry physique—but she was no match against these two.
“What about him?” the man asked, gesturing toward the stranger she had saved.
Looking at him now, Aizel wondered who he was. He was quite tall and had been difficult to lift and drag across the sand, but his body was more boyish compared to theirs. Perhaps not all Quotidian were as large and well fed.
“Leave him,” the woman said. “If he’s not gone already, he will be by the time the village organizes a rescue.”
The man nodded but approached the stranger anyway.
The woman grabbed Aizel by the elbow and started dragging her down the beach. “Mingus, come.”
Aizel jerked her arm out of the woman’s grasp. Everything about the woman, especially her touch, made her skin crawl.
If only she hadn’t helped the sinking man she wouldn’t be in this mess. If he had been conscious, he probably would have done exactly what these two were currently doing.
Rage and frustration exploded in Aizel’s heart. She had come so far, only to be stopped when her feet touched the ground of freedom.
“Frisia,” Mingus called. “I think this is the king’s son who came in this morning. I saw him riding at the head of the reinforcements.”
Frisia smiled once again. “Even better. We’ll be sure to report that.”
The king’s son? All feeling left her body as Aizel thought she might be sick.
She had just saved the son of her worst enemy.
Chapter 8
Erich was dead. He had to be.
He could see nothing but reddish shadows.
Could taste nothing but salt.
Felt nothing but dryness. Heat. Pain.
He had never given much thought to death. His life philosophy was all about living. But if he had to guess what death felt like, this was it. Except for the fact that he had not expected to be so thirsty in the afterlife.
“Here’s another!” The voice sounded far away. Erich heard the words but could not comprehend what they meant.
His lips stung, his throat was parched, and his skin felt like it was burning on top and itching underneath. Every inhale felt like someone was stabbing his insides with a thousand little needlepoints.
Wait... A person wasn’t supposed to breathe when they were dead.
