21. Katya
21
I wake up to the sound of leaves rustling in the trees above me, sun warming my skin and something hard and pointed jabbing me in the back.
“Good morning, witchling. It’s time to go home.”
The words take a moment to filter through my sleepy haze. That voice? I know that—
I bolt to my feet and run. There is no thought or logic, only the overwhelming need to get away. I race through the brush, limbs scraping and snagging at my face, hair and clothes. Aemon calls after me, but his words are lost to my panting breaths and the racket I’m creating as I crash through the woods. My half-frozen foot lands on a pinecone, and I let out a shout. The barbs are like tiny knives stabbing into my flesh. I crash to my knees, the uneven ground sending a shock wave of pain up my leg.
“Katya,” Aemon calls, and that just spurs me on. I push back to my feet and take one unsteady step .
Something strikes my wrist.
It’s a small pain at first, like the burn of an ember just popped from a fire. Then it streaks a fiery path up my arm and splits apart like tiny bolts of lightning. One bolt tears through my chest, up my neck and into my skull. My vision goes white. The other scorches through my midsection and into my extremities. The muscles in my legs seize up, and I crash into a heap on the ground, my skull cracking against a sharp stone.
As suddenly as it came, the pain releases me, leaving behind only tiny aftershocks that crackle across my nerve endings, and a knot the size of my fist on my temple. Blood runs in rivulets from the gash in my head, and I press a palm to it in a vain effort to stem the flow. There’s a gods awful ringing in my ears, and it feels as though my heart is hammering the inside of my skull. Hands grapple with the fabric of my dress and roll me onto my back. My vision’s cloudy, and I have to blink my eyes a few times before it clears. Aemon’s leaning over me, his mouth moving, but I can’t understand what he’s saying.
“What?” I ask. Even in my own head, my voice sounds like someone took a bristle brush to it.
The ringing dissolves with a whoosh, and Aemon’s words hit me with perfect clarity. “I told you not to run.”