Chapter 51 #2
“Shit, shit,” she muttered, the fire cackling louder under me. “Fuck, my bad! Forgot there was fire under you for a second!” She cut through the remaining ropes faster, laughing because again, she got off on my misery.
“Girl,” I hissed, forcing myself to endure the blistering pain. I knew a part of her had done it intentionally, but I couldn’t even curse her for it; I needed her help more than my anger.
As she cut through the ropes at my calves, I rasped out, “What about Thrax? Where is he? How did you two find me?”
“Finding people is the easiest thing for Merton and me,” she said. “We found the Soulless Man, remember? And the book rat was predictable. We didn’t have to think too hard.”
“What about Thrax? Did you see him on your way?”
Amelia let out a long, quiet breath, and my heart clenched.
“When we regained consciousness and broke out of where we were, Merton and I went to your place first to see if you were alright but...”
“But what?” I forced myself to sit despite the jolt of pain that ripped through my spine at the action.
“He’s locked in.” She sliced through another rope, her voice flat but her eyes flicking to mine.
“We couldn’t enter and he couldn’t come out.
The windows were unbreakable and so was the front door.
They must have sealed the whole house with some kind of spell.
Even Merton didn’t recognise it, and we couldn’t break through or neutralise it.
He is stuck inside.” She pulled the last rope off, tossing it to the floor.
“Merton wanted to take his time breaking the spell, but the Soulless Man told us to go find and save you instead. He said he’s got it under control. ”
I swallowed, her words like stones sliding down my throat. As she helped me down from the steel surface, her palm skimmed across my back where the skin was no doubt scorched and red from the flames.
“Take me to him,” I said. He would be worried sick. He could feel things that I felt, and the emotional pain and terror I’d gone through for the past minutes must have him worried. More than that, I wanted to collapse against him and have his body and arms around me. “I want to see him.”
Amelia nodded once, glancing over her shoulder at Merton who had just snapped someone’s neck, the sound echoing like a crack of thunder. I swallowed hard, scanning the unconscious men strewn across the ground.
Amelia stepped around the altar to meet her brother at the edge of the clearing, near the fire lantern, saying something I couldn’t hear. I followed, my pace uneven, each step a careful negotiation between pain and balance.
I heard a sound behind me. At first, I thought it was from the animals quietly scurrying in the grass. But then the presence felt heavier, creeping down my spine.
I didn’t pay it too much attention until they were breathing down my back.
I turned, eyes widening.
It was the man who had blindfolded me. The one who had pressed the knife to my chest. I just noticed that he was also the one who helped Winifred with his wheelchair that day.
He closed in with a stagger, a knife already buried in his own side, blood dripping from his mouth in thick ropes as he bared his teeth at me like an animal.
“Now and evermore.”
“SANORA, DUCK!”
But it was too late.
The ritual knife plunged into my stomach.
Deep.
At that same moment, another knife—a blur of silver—whipped past my head and buried itself in the man’s skull.
Liquid filled my throat instantly, hot and metallic, clogging my breath. I choked, coughing, blood spurting from my mouth as my hands went instinctively to the knife lodged in my stomach, crimson soaking through my shirt at a terrifying pace.
No. No. No. No.
The man crumpled at my feet, his eyes frozen wide, dead.
Pain bloomed like fire inside me, my legs buckling as the world tilted and spun. I fell...but not to the ground.
Instead, I collapsed into a wall of muscle, arms coming around me before I could hit the dirt.
I struggled to breathe through the searing agony tearing through my body, but all I managed was to choke on my own blood, my chest heaving, air refusing to come.
My eyes blurred with tears as Amelia knelt over me, her face stripped of its usual mischief, replaced by terror. Her gaze darted between the knife in my stomach and my face, her hands trembling as though she couldn’t decide where to reach first.
“Hey, hey,” she murmured, voice pitched high. “Take a deep breath in.”
That’s not exactly what to say to a dying person, I wanted to tell her, but my lips wouldn’t move.
Above us, the sky roared with thunder.
“It’ll be alright...uhm...” She turned, hitting her brother’s arm. “Merton, do something.”
Her voice sounded distant now, echoing through water.
The pain in my stomach was fading—not gone, just muted, as if someone had wrapped me in thick layers of reliever.
I didn’t know if I was going numb from too much pain or if there truly wasn’t any left.
I’d thought a knife stab would hurt more, but apparently, death was soft, like sinking into solace.
“I can’t do anything. It’s not an ordinary knife,” Merton said from behind or above me, his voice hard.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a ceremonial knife. She probably doesn’t feel any pain but it’s eating her away slowly.”
That’s not exactly what to say to a dying person, I thought again, but the words stayed locked inside me.
Merton was right. The initial stab had been like fire. Now there was nothing. I couldn’t feel pain. I couldn’t feel much at all except the weight dragging me down and the slowing of my own breath. My limbs felt far away, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.
Can Thrax feel this?
The thought cut through the haze, forcing my eyes open.
I hoped not.
“Are you saying she’s going to die?” I could have imagined it, considering my mind state, but I swore I heard Amelia’s voice shake.
Merton didn’t answer. But the silence between them was enough.
I was going to die.