Page 46 of Sparktopia
“Help me out of this dress, sisters. We need our rest. God knows we didn’t get it last night. We’ll talk more after the sun comes up.”
They murmured their agreements. And then all their hands were busy unlacing me, and pulling skirts down, and unhooking my corset.
My first breath after that happened was nearly orgasmic, that’s how good it felt. And then Ceela was slipping the nightgown over my head, and Lucindy was brushing my hair, and Britley was pulling my bedcovers back as Harlow fluffed my pillow.
So, ironically, my chaotic day ended with more attention and luxury than I could’ve ever imagined three days ago. And I can’t help but wonder, after my friends are are all back in their nooks, tucked into their beds as well, if this wasn’t the reason that the Spark Maidens of yore all agreed to be sacrificed for the last thousand years in the first place.
Life is hard when you’re only given the minimum. When you have just enough to live.
Luxuries and comfort change the way a person sees the world and it happens quicker than most would like to admit.
But after everything that’s happened to me today, it’s too heavy of a topic to dwell on now.
I snuggle even deeper into my pillows, wrap the fine comforter around me even tighter, and let out a cavernous yawn as I turn on my side and settle in for a good, deep one-hour sleep.
My eyes close, my mind drifts, and then…
The bells start ringing.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
In my nightmarethe bells are ringing. A low, deep resonating thrum that seeps into my brain and shakes my skull. Then pounding. Just pounding and pounding…
“Finn!”
I sit up, blink, trying to make sense of where I am and what’s happening. Then I jump up, because while my mind won’t accept the bells, it understands that Mitchell is pounding on my door, screaming my name. “Finn!”
I’m still half asleep, groggy and confused, when I open the door and Mitch comes rushing past me. He stops in the middle of the ridiculously large room with his back to me and looks down, pausing. Like he needs to take a breath. Like he needs a moment.
And of course he does. Because those fucking bells are ringing.
But it takes me another second, a second in which Mitchell turns to face me, wide-eyed and mouth open, for me to fully understand what the tolling bellsmean.
“I’ll go get her. Do you want me to go get her?” Mitchell comes at me, grabs both my shoulders, and looks me straight in the eyes. “Focus.” He shakes me a little. “Do you want me to go get Clara?” He says these words slowly and deliberately. Like I don’t speak his language.
Or… like I might be in shock and having trouble processing.
I shake myself—my head, at least—then remember to breathe. “No. I’m going to her myself. She will be hysterical.”
I turn in place, looking around, then down at myself. I’m wearing a pair of loose-fitting linen pants and nothing else. I look around the room—a bedroom I barely recognize because I don’t really live here and this is actually the first time I even bothered finding a bedroom to sleep in. So my mind can’t make sense of it.
I’m thinking this and I’m not sure about my clothes, or where I now live, or where I might find a tunic. I mean… I was wearing one earlier, but the maids have been here while I was sleeping and the tunic I discarded an hour ago on the floor has been picked up.
This is just the start of things that are unsettling me right now, because somewhere in this palace I can hear the clanging of pots and pans and other kitchen noises.
Cooks, I guess. Making breakfast, I suppose.
This is when I realize it’s not even dawn.
I turn to Mitch, panicked. “What time is it?” If the bells ring before dawn then the Maiden is due at midnight tonight. Not tomorrow,tonight.
Mitchell, of course, has already figured this out. And his voice is low and somber. “Four-fifteen.”
Four-fifteen.
Four. Fifteen.
We’ve got one day.
