Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Everyone takes a step back. The man wipes his hand on his clothing, as if my cooties are contagious. Hell, they might be. “Perfectly all right. Can’t have you sleeping in the common room and getting everyone sick, can we? The goddess would not be happy.”
“You’re a truly kind soul,” I say again, and mean it. The exhaustion threatens to overtake me, and I turn to the lady innkeeper. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I’d truly like to lie down. I’m not feeling so well.”
“Of course! Follow me.”
I give her all the coins I have in my pocket. She wipes them on her apron and leads me up the stairs to a door at the end of the hall. It opens to a tiny room the size of a closet with a bed and a window the size of a plate with a tiny shutter over it. “This is all we have,” she announces, turning her head as I squeeze in past her. “Breakfast will be at dawn. First come, first served.”
“This is perfect, thank you.” I collapse on the bed, sagging heavily. Every muscle in my body feels sweaty and painful, both. My skin hurts. My teeth hurt. My head hurts. I don’t know how I’m going to make it until dawn. All I know is that I need to lie down for a few minutes or I’m going to collapse.
She watches me from the doorway. “Sure you don’t need a healer?”
I nod and lie down on the bed. It’s musty-melling, and the blankets are scratchy and unpleasant against my skin. For a moment, though, it feels so good to lie down that I want to weep with relief.
The door closes and I’m left alone. I stare up at the ceiling above me, and I feel very alone and very frightened. My body throbs with agony and I suck in a painful breath. I lie quietly, waiting for the misery to go away.
I just need to last until dawn. Then I can find Kalos again.
My poor Kalos, hiding in the bushes somewhere like a raccoon. The visual would be funny if I didn’t hurt so much. Right now, it feels like it would be painful to simply draw a breath, and I concentrate on breathing. The thought of Kalos being somewhere nearby doesn’t go away, though, and I drag myself out of bed and to the tiny window. I open it up and stick my face into the fresh air. It’s crisp and brisk and incredible against my overheated skin. I remove my sweaty Belaran veil and toss it down on the bed, then stare out the window. The wall that surrounds the edge of town is in view. Is this close enough, I wonder.
A sharp pain hits me in the solar plexus, and I double over, unable to breathe. Oh god. Oh god. It feels like my insides are being pulled apart.
The pain fades a moment later and seems to lessen. Is it Kalos, moving along the outskirts and trying to find a spot as close to me as possible? I put my hand out the window and wave, even though I can’t see anyone out there.
I shift to the left and the pain pulses through me, making me gasp for air. Quickly, I step to the right again and it subsides a bit.
Just a bit. Still feels like I’m being shredded internally. Everything about all of this is wrong. If the window was any larger, I’d be tempted to dramatically throw myself out of it, just to crawl a few steps closer to Kalos and relief from this endless pain.
Dawn, I remind myself. You only have to make it ’til dawn.
Chapter
Forty-One
The morning takes an eternity to arrive. By the time it does, I’m in so much endless throbbing agony that if someone accused me of being a witch, I’d race into the nearest bonfire just to get this over with. I’m curled up on the bed in a fetal position, sweaty and shivering. This was the worst idea we’ve ever had, and we’ve had some stinkers.
Everything just hurts so badly. Even my molars are throbbing with pain, as if my entire body has turned against me. It takes all my energy to sit upright and put my Belara veil back over my head, along with the plain copper circlet that nestles atop my head to hold it in place. My clothes are damp with sweat, and my teeth won’t stop chattering.
Give you a fever to distract your body from the pain, he said. Maybe it won’t be as bad, he said.
A bird chirps, warbling a morning song, and I climb out of bed and stagger toward the door. I went to sleep last night with my shoes on because I didn’t think I’d have the strength to put them back on in the morning, and I see now that was a correct guess. Thank goodness for that. I trudge out into the hall and down the stairs, and the inn’s main room is full of people, buzzing with excitement.