Page 164 of The Mortal Trials

“Great!” he snaps, bracing the sill to yell outside. “What do we do now?” He glances over his shoulder at me to see the answer that must be written on my face. “We just… wait?” He straightens and barks a harried laugh as he rakes a hand over his head. “For what, we don’t know. Death, more likely than not.”

He paces and rants, mostly to himself since I purposefully tune him out.

Morrigan brought us here to stay. She’ll tell us when to leave.

Niall finally collapses in a wooden chair at the table, still venting about the unfairness of not knowing why we’re here. He’s like a hot kettle. Even when it’s removed from the fire, it weakly screams.

I take the lamp and make my way through the rooms of the home. Sweat steadily drips from my temples and carves paths to my jaw. My thigh throbs. I was in much better shape when my prosthesis was, too. As it degraded, so did my fitness and stamina.

Fragrant lamp oil sweetens the stale air. I drag my finger through the collected dust on one of the windowsills and place our only source of light down on it.

It’s been a long time since anyone stayed here, but this home is beautiful. The furniture is simple, but well-made. Elegant and understated. The rooms are far larger than I realized as we approached the house in the dark.

Does this dwelling belong to Morrigan, or did she lead us here because it’s abandoned?

I open the door to an adjacent bedroom and pull down the covers, dusting the sheets. I unfasten my pants and shuck them off, sitting on the bed’s edge.

Niall appears in the doorway, propping a shoulder against the frame. “What are you doing?”

I’m going to lay down and if sleep finds me, I’ll sink into it like I plan to dive into this plush mattress. “Going to bed.”

He shakes his head. “How can you possibly sleep at a time like this?”

I pull my thigh from my prosthesis and sheath, sighing at the relief, ignoring him. I will rest because I’m tired. I’m gods damned tired to the marrow, and it has nothing to do with Olympus, or Ares, or even my leg.

Worry and fear have worn me thin, like the sock I jerk off my foot.

If I’m going to die, I’m taking Morrigan’s advice. I’ll spend my last breaths making sure Ares can’t enjoy it. And I’ll pray I’m as brave as my sister when she provoked his anger.

Knowing Carina, she was probably wearing a self-satisfied smirk, feet propped on her desk and sipping her favorite papaya and pineapple drink when he came for her.

I’ll wear one to match when he comes for me.

Until then, I’m going to sleep.

With the soft hues of dawn come caws and commotion. I peer through the open bedroom door to find Niall batting Morrigan’s raven away from his head as it soars into the kitchen. If he strikes that bird, she’ll make him pay for the blow tenfold. I’m about to sit up in bed and remind him of as much when there’s a stiff knock at the door. The raven escapes through the open window and Niall softly curses, jerking the shutters closed behind it.

“Who is it?” he demands.

“The goddess Morrigan sent me,” a soft, craggy male voice answers.

From the bed I claimed, I watch as a withered man with a long, gray beard enters the house with the assistance of an ornate wooden cane, carrying a leather satchel. His plum robes are richly embroidered.

He spots me immediately and pushes his glasses up higher onto his nose. “Miss Callalie Ryan, I presume.”

With a nod, I pick up my prosthesis and search the blankets for the sheath I tossed in them last night so it wouldn’t get dusty. And for my pants. I grab them and stop when the man grouses.

“Leave the leg and those off. Put shorts on, if you like,” he instructs, pausing outside the bedroom door. “I need to see what I’m working with in order to make repairs.”

Repairs?

“I need a minute,” I tell him. He pulls the door closed and I grab my bag and riffle for a pair of shorts, dragging them on as quickly as I can. “You can come in.”

The door opens and the gentleman enters.

Morrigan said she’d send a craftsman, not a repairman. “I thought you were going to replace it.”

He drags a chair closer to the bed. “Indeed, but that’ll take some time. I have many customers ahead of you, all promised a portion of my work and time. I told Morrigan I would do what I could with what you have in the meantime.”