Seven Kassen
CHAPTER SEVEN
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MY NEW MASTER PUT food in front of me.
Strange food that Storymaker’s chef would’ve died before letting a guest eat. Raw carrots with honey and a pile of cut strawberries. No sauce. No freshly prepared roasts or cakes.
Where were the decadent meals all guests enjoyed? Where was our one meal of deliciousness after being such good toys to them?
We’d grown accustomed to our reward. The one meal where we were allowed to indulge. A feast for the servants of Fables.
“Please...you have to eat.”
I looked up, catching the eyes of the woman who I now belonged to. I couldn’t understand how this had happened. Where were the guards? Where were the other guests? Where was Storymaker?
My mind was fuzzy, refusing to give me pieces of time.
It flickered with images of Quell as a little girl when we’d first met to her as a young woman on the night we’d said goodbye.
It swirled and blended, tormenting and teasing with reality.
Was this woman Quell?
They looked similar.
Could I have been struck over the head while I rescued them? Could I have died like I’d predicted, and this was some form of hell?
Who is she?
My wrists ached from the rope binding me. Dried blood smeared over my forearms and knuckles from where I’d tried to get free.
Whoever she was, she wasn’t my beloved Quell.
My friend would never imprison me. She knew better than to tie up an already captured soul.
The woman pushed the plate closer to me, careful not to come too close herself.
She was wise in that.
Smart not to put herself in grabbing distance because I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if I got my hands on her. Most of me buckled beneath the habituate programming I’d grown up with, but other parts of me—parts I didn’t recognize or remember—howled with commands to end her.
Sitting on her knees, she didn’t look relaxed. Her muscles stayed locked and ready to leap and flee at any moment. But her hazel eyes were kind. Far kinder than any eyes I’d ever seen.
It made the chaos inside me pause.
Just for a second.
Emptiness filled me.
Confusion. Disorientation. I couldn’t get a grip on this new existence.
“Here.” She rolled a water bottle into my legs, getting tangled in the blanket she’d given me.
What sort of master went out of her way to make a bed with all creature comforts I could want?
I was warm and clean. My wounds were tended to.
Wounds I didn’t remember earning, but then again, I didn’t remember anything it seemed.
Nothing right, at least.
My new life was full of turbulence.
“Take these too.” She tossed a packet of pills into my lap. “They’re high strength anti-inflammatories. You need to take down the swelling on your brain...or at least, I think that’s what’s causing the hallucinations. Plus, they’ll help with your headache.”
Swelling on my brain?
Hallucinations?
What the hell is happening to me?
I snatched up the pills, popping them from the packet with tingling fingers thanks to being tightly bound.
“How do you know I have a headache?” I decided against telling her about the ringing in my ears, the odd taste in my mouth, the weakness in my left side, and the constant nausea.
I also suspected my left arm was broken, made worse with her rope tying me tight.
I knew the dull ache of a bone injury and recognized the symptoms.
How I’d broken my arm was yet another mystery.
One I needed to figure out before any other shit could happen to me.
Ignoring my pain, I glared at the woman.
I wouldn’t let on that I hurt.
No way.
The least pathetic I looked, the better. If she still feared me, even with my hands in ropes, then I might stand a chance of getting free. Of scaring her enough that she didn’t hurt me further.
“I watched you fall.” She ducked her head, biting her lip before admitting with a wince. “I made you fall.”
“Fall?” I scowled and tossed back the pills with the entire bottle of water, blindly trusting and not caring if they were poison.
I was suddenly thirsty. Epically thirsty.
Once the bottle was empty, I threw it back toward her, then grabbed the plate of random food.
It wasn’t roast beef, but it would patch up some of the gnawing hunger inside me.
“Where’s the chef? You give him a night off? ”
She blinked. “There was a chef?”
I rolled my eyes but stopped with a hiss, cursing the rock and roll of the room and the spearing pain in my head. “How else do you think Storymaker entertains in style?”
“Storymaker?”
Honestly? Who the fuck was this woman? She wasn’t a member of my family. Therefore, she had to be a guest. I’d never met her, but she couldn’t be here if she hadn’t been given exclusive membership.
Ignoring her, I chewed on a strawberry.
My stomach roiled.
My body rejected it.
I barely made it in time to twist to the side before I wretched.
All the water came up.
The room turned upside down.
My nervous system chose that exact moment to turn me into a furnace, blur my eyes, and turn up the screeching in my ears until I couldn’t breathe.
I convulsed.
I screamed.
It went dark.