ChapterSix
Hector warned me that they would blindfold me when we traveled through the Bloodstone mountains. However, he failed to tell me they would also keep my hands bound and forbid me from removing my blindfold.
He obviously didn’t believe me when I told him I wasn’t a spy. Why else would he blindfold me?
It’s impossible to not fear the unknown. The movements. The journey. The sounds. The pounding of our horses’ hooves. Every whisper that must be directed my way.
It’s all too much. Too frightening. Too real.
All of this is so vividly real.
After my meeting with their Priestess of Light two days ago, they forced me to spend time in a sweat lodge. The longer I sat there, sweating in the most annoying places, the more it fueled my frustration with Hector.
As the day lingers, I long to hear Everly speak. If she spoke, I might hear Kassandra.
I imagine her voice carrying in the wind. In the sun’s warmth beating against my back. In the even gait of the horse beneath me. In the hint of winter in the crisp air.
Yet, I never hear her.
Instead, there are the sounds of birds cawing. The horses’ hooves pounding the ground. The rustling of leather and metal. The fear rattling inside my chest like a snake preparing to strike.
Memories assault me of a different time, a different place. Taken hostage by the Hematites. Being blindfolded. Being tied up for days. Cold. Starved. Tortured. Forced to fight for my freedom.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
I focus on the familiar smells in the air. The solid feel of the reins in my hands. All of this is real, touchable. These Bloodstone barbarians aren’t like the group of Hematites who held me ransom.
A deep sigh escapes me as I think of the Hematites and their fire magic. The Hematites are as fierce and lethal as the Bloodstone tribe.
Shouts pierce my ears, Hector calling out to Luc. Leah screaming for Cenric to duck.
Projectiles collide with leather, and the earth shudders beneath me.
“Malachites,” Luc yells.
No. No. No!
I grip the reins tighter and gasp when my horse rears on its hind legs, throwing me from its back. My bottom smacks the ground first. Followed by my head. Pain shoots up my body as sparks light across my vision. I blink against the blackness, the darkness, the tomb the Bloodstone have forced on me.
Shaky fingers lift to the cloth covering my eyes, but with my hands tied, I can’t slip it free.
Please! I must see.
Determination fuels me as I try again, but the material doesn’t budge. Hector tied the blindfold too tight. Panic overcomes me as I try with all my strength, but the damn material doesn't loosen.
Olah, help me!
A solid mass lands against my body, stealing the breath from my lungs. I scream into the wind, that cold, unflinching wind that never answers.
Warmth trickles against my arms, my face, my neck.
Blood?
I’m bleeding?
Or someone is bleeding on me?
