Page 15 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

A crack of my eyelids was all I could muster, and little good that did with the dimness of my surroundings.

I couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, even though I was confident they were truly voices now, not just tricks of sound. Their pitch was too high, too fast, and, truthfully, I was too damned preoccupied with my newest revelation—I wasn’t actually tethered.

My limbs were heavy, yes, and my body felt akin to a bag of wet clay, but I didn’t seem to be bound by anything other than my own weakness. And whatever was making it feel like I’d drunk every pitcher of wine in the fortress.

But I could work with that.

Even though my focus felt like it might give way at any moment, I narrowed it all down into my hands. It took an eternity, but I was confident my fingers flexed.

“Aofe…” one voice beside me said in obvious concern. “How much of the draught did you give the walker lady? You followed the directions, right?”

A squeaky, indignant scoff came. “I gave it enough to knock out a dyrehorse!”

“Dyrehorses are undead, you imbecile. They can’t be knocked out!” Smack. Smack. “How much. Did you. Give. It?”

“Who are you calling an imbecile, Fenfay?” Pages rustled frantically. “I followed this recipe right here, with these measurements for…for…a…”

“For a what?”

“A…deer.”

“Oh, give me a break, Aofe!” The tip of something small and pointed jabbed into my side. “It’s ten times as fat as a deer!”

A groan built in my chest, but even my throat was fighting me, and it died there.

Good goddess, I wanted to tell these voices to shut the ever-loving hells up before my ears bled, but my body had other plans. After an embarrassing delay, my muscles contracted, revolting against that jab to my side, sending my arm rolling right over the edge of whatever I was draped across.

“It’s…it’s moving,” one voice hissed at the other, and a gasp followed it. “Fenfay, do something!”

“Oh, no. Oh, no.” Those tiny jabs came back, at my arm this time, like they were trying to lift it. “I’ll take up top, you start on that mess there. We’ve been dallying for too long. Eilir is going to be so mad!”

“And why would I be mad?” came a third, equally tiny voice from somewhere distant.

Something metallic clattered, and pain shot through my leg—the most reassuring thing I’d felt in ages.

“N-n-no reason!”

“Tsk, tsk.” The buzzing of bugs started again, and a breeze passed over my face. Something prodded at one hand and wrist, then the other, and I was certain I had more feeling than a moment ago. “I gave you a simple task, Fenfay.” A tug at the waist of my pants this time. “We need to know if this one came with the rest! A mark. A tag. Something! They always have one.”

“W-we were just looking, I promise!”

A quiet scoff came from near my face and, goddess, I wanted to smile. But whatever was subduing my body was fucking strong, and I wasn’t confident my lips had even twitched.

“I’m sure you were, just like I’m sure you were—oh. Oh, ho. What is this?”

What had to be hands started pulling at my top as their owner hummed thoughtfully, and my heart started pounding. It should have been reassuring it could still pump blood like that and warm my body, but comfort was the furthest thing from what I felt.

Cord tugged at my neck as my necklace—my father’s necklace of his family sigil—was pulled from my shirt and away from my body. It was an immensely personal memento of my father, one I’d stolen from his viewing room before his body was interred, and I was positive it hadn’t left my flesh since then.

My heart rate grew erratic, and pinpricks started in my fingers.

“What is it, Eilir?” one of the familiar earlier voices asked.

“Hmm.” A lengthy pause. “I think…it looks like… Oh my. Ohhh myyyy. Could that really be…?”

The solid metal of the sigil landed back against my chest, but my thunderous heart didn’t ease one bit.

“GET THE HIGH MAGE! NOW!”