Brian Beam
****
My head snapped up as
Briscott entered the tent with a man dressed in similar dark brown clothing behind him. The man’s black
cloak was drawn back over his shoulders.
Shaggy brown curls framed his rounded, ruddy face, his beard a patchy
mess. Stern green eyes glared at me
above a thin line of a nose. He was
almost short enough to stand up straight in the tent, but had a stoutness that
would make only an idiot dismiss the man’s strength due to his height. There were at least two knives sheathed at
his belt along with a heavy-headed hammer with a leather-wrapped handle hanging
from a strap at his hip.
I couldn’t remember if
I had just been thinking about the day Max had revealed his ability to talk to
me when I was ten years old, or if I had actually fallen asleep. My head was still a little fuzzy. If I had been asleep, it was a direct result
of the tashave leaf. Emotionally, I was
too worked up to allow myself to sleep, especially when I thought about what
the new man’s hammer was for.
Briscott crouched
before me with a pained expression. I
had viewed his friendliness as an insult before, but now I found that I missed
his easy smile and pleasant voice. “This
is Oslen. He’ll be implanting the
rock. I’ll be right here holding your
legs. It’ll be best if you don’t
struggle.”
Oslen spit something
dark to the side as if chewing pipeleaf.
“Yeah, those that struggled before got a shallow grave for their
efforts,” he added gruffly without a hint of a threat. He was simply telling me the truth of it. Unlike my first conversation with Briscott,
Oslen showed no sign of friendliness in his voice or expression.
“Oslen!” Briscott
scolded. “There is no blighting cause
for that.” Briscott reached to the chest
across from me and turned back holding a bottle and a cloth. He wadded the cloth into a ball over the
glass lip of the bottle and then flipped the bottle, soaking the cloth with
whatever was in it. “This will give your
skin a bit of a chill, but should help ward off infection.”
As he rubbed the cloth
in concentric circles starting at the center of my chest and then expanding
outwards, I shivered. There was a slight
alcohol odor from the cloth, but I had no idea what it was. The solution was thin, and dried within
seconds. Briscott had been right,
though; it was not only cold to the touch, it also sent a chill deep into
my skin that did not go away as it dried.
My naked torso was already cold from the fall-day chill, but
where he had applied the solution, it felt as if my skin were covered in frost.
My brain shouted at me
to beg them to let me go, to simply untie me and send me away. However, I knew from what Briscott had told
me, as well as from my knowledge of Contract magic, that they had been given orders and that they could either fulfill them or die. So, instead I just dropped my head to the side and
closed my eyes.
“Don’t warn me when you
do it,” I requested solemnly, fearing the pain while knowing there was nothing
I could do to stop it.
“We can at least do
that for you,” Briscott replied softly, a hint of his affable voice coming
through. I felt his hands press down at
my ankles. What felt to be one of his
shins pressed down across my thighs right above my knees. “I’m so blighting sorry.”
I responded with a deep
breath through my nose, keeping my eyes shut tight. I heard some movement and then felt a
pinprick in the center of my chest. I
tried not to think of the gem breaking through the bone of my sternum. I tried to not imagine the gem accidentally
piercing my heart and spilling my life out in pints of blood on the ground
below me.
But I did, and my heart sped and my breathing
deepened in response. I could feel sweat
beading on my forehead despite the cool air.
I could feel my pulse throbbing at my temples, my bound wrists, and my
chest.
Then, there was
silence. I could only hear my own deep
breathing and the thump of each of my rapid heartbeats. A cold tear fell down my cheek. Before it could drip from my chin, there was
a rush of air against my chest, the clink of a hammer against stone, pain
beyond words, and then, there was nothing.
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