“Precious one…”
Ugh. Why did my brain have to do this to me?
“Stop it,” I grumbled, squeezing my eyes harder, determined for them not to open until I became a merry cloud of empty contentment.
What? In this damn palace? Pull the other one!
“Flower shop, flower shop, flower,” I muttered. “All about the flower shop.”
“I believe in you, precious one. The truth is coming. Soon it will begin. Soon you will see.”
“Who are you?” I asked out loud, eyes still closed.
“Sing. Always sing.”
Whoa. That hit me hard, a massive confirmation of me being on the path by singing for the king.
“Are you at the tower?” I tried.
No answer.
“Can you tell me why this is happening?”
Still no answer. Minutes passed, the voice throwing out nothing else.
I opened my eyes, my forehead creasing with frustration. I couldn’t escape this. Even if the big attack got me out of the palace, this shit would trail behind me like a bad smell.
Dammit. I couldn’t walk away. This was bigger than me. I felt it in my soul.
Medusa’s head appeared to my left. She faced me, her tongue flickering at my cheek, amber eyes gleaming.
“Annoying, huh?” I said, stroking her head.
She hissed gently as if to say yes.
While she slithered off the bed, I sent Aidan a bunch of prayers begging for a sign, for his love to point me in the right direction to crack this riddle.
Man, it petrified me. Clearly there was some major life-changing shit about to go down. But the scrambled nature of it all freaked me out, putting my anxiety in a blender on full blast with no lid to contain the splatter.
The flora’s energy increased, shifting suddenly from the pleasant crackle to a powerful pulse in my right hand.
“What the?—”
A wooden disk appeared, about the size of a cup coaster, its edges ragged. Symbols appeared in a dark ink, drawing across the wood as if written by an invisible hand.
What the hell?
I studied the symbols, getting to my feet while my heart jackhammered, holding the disk up to my face, unable to decipher them. This wasn’t anything I’d encountered before.
Medusa turned her head, watching me.
“I don’t get it,” I told her, shaking, wondering if I was about to wake up again.
By Aidan, my chest hurt, my throat dry with fear.
Another vision here to confuse the shit out of me harder?
Heat bloomed in my palm, the sound of windchimes tinkling in my ears.
