Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“I’m staying with her,” I manage to say, my mouth thick. “I’m not leaving her. She might come back to life at any moment. You might still be able to save her.”
I look back down at her, hoping that maybe she’s moved, showed some sign of life.
But her body just feels heavier now.
“I’m not leaving her,” I say again. “You go. Go back to your ship, back to your land and your family. She was the only family I had. I must stay with her.”
“You’ll die if you do,” he says imploringly. “They’ll kill you. They’ll kill Lemi too.”
“I’d like to see them try,” I say, though that last part hits deep inside. I don’t care if they do kill me, whoever they are, but I don’t want Lemi to die.
“Take him with you,” I say. “Take Lemi with you, please.”
“He’ll never leave your side,” he says. “Just like you’ll never leave your aunt’s.”
I nod, trying to swallow.
This can’t be real. This must be a bad dream. I must still be asleep.
“But you know that I won’t leave you either,” he continues. He walks across the room and I look up, watching him disappear around the corner.
He can stay if he wants. Part of me wants to be that selfish, to ask him to. Maybe we can fight off the next wave of attackers. After all, there are four dead men here, four assassins that we managed to take down. We could stay and fight and I could give my aunt the proper burial and respect she deserves. She doesn’t deserve to be left behind, even in death.
Time doesn’t seem to pass the way it should. Everything seems to dwindle down to just me and my aunt and I know I can’t let go of her, not now, maybe not ever. I can just sit here with her and be and as long as I can do that, then she’s never really dead, never really gone.
“Brynla,” Andor says, and I realize he’s come back into the room. He stands beside me and I tear my gaze off my aunt and glance up at him.
Sorrow furrows his brow, his eyes wet at the corners.
“Stay with me,” I tell him. “Don’t leave me. Promise you won’t leave me.”
“I promise I won’t leave you,” he says, his voice rough with determination.
Then he crouches low beside me and before I know what’s happening, he’s stabbed a needle into my arm.
The shock of his action registers before the pain does.
I yelp, the sound strangled, and try to move away from him but my aunt’s body is suddenly too heavy.
“What did you do?” I cry out, twisting futilely, while Lemi gets up and delivers a low, threatening bark aimed at Andor.
“I had to,” Andor says, holding the needle out as if he might do it again. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to get you out of here.” He glances at Lemi warily. “I know you’re just a dog, but you have to let me do this, for her own good. Don’t make me use this on you too. I don’t know how I’ll be able to smuggle a girl and a dog out of here.”
I blink at him slowly and try to speak, but no words come out. The room starts to spin.
No, I think. He can’t have drugged me. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t take me away from here, from my aunt.
But from the apologetic look on his brow, watching as I slump to the floor, I know that’s exactly what he plans to do.
“You’ll wake up on the boat, safe and sound,” he says to me, his voice echoing and becoming farther away as my eyes close. “I’m not about to lose you and I promised I wouldn’t leave.”
Then all sound ceases.
And everything is black.
Chapter 24
Andor
“About time the sun came out,” I say as I exit the back of the castle and walk toward Solla, Vidar, and Steiner, who are sitting at the oak table situated among the vines and fruit trees, the last of the cherry blossoms scattered on the ground in mounds of white and pink.
My siblings are in deep discussion about something, but all talking abruptly stops when I sit down at the table and take a sip of the cold beer in my hand.
“Didn’t bring any for the rest of us?” Vidar asks, raising his empty mug and tipping it against the edge of the table in show.
“Another? When I asked the cook it seems the keg has nearly been drained dry,” I tell him. “Next time I go inside, I’ll get you a refill.”
“Nah,” Steiner says. “Next time you go inside we won’t see you again for a day or two.”
“How is she?” Solla asks me, meaning Brynla. She’s the reason I’ve been so preoccupied over the last few days. “I keep bringing her food but she barely touches it. She won’t say a word. Even her dog won’t bark.”