An arrow through her arm.
Bite wounds on her neck …
All healed, then replaced by boil upon boil upon fuckingboil.
I pull a strip of seaweed from a slurry of spit and seawater and dress another wound as Zyke releases a whining lament. “I’m here, Treasure.”
I’m finally here.
TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP.
I sweep the beads of sweat from her brow, stealing a glance at the ceiling while that fuckingtapcontinues to ricochet all the way down to my trove.
It’s bold. Relentless.
It hasn’t stopped for hours.
Days.
I’m not even sure anymore.
All I know is thathedid this to her.
Rhordyn.
He’s a land beast. He should haveprotectedher.
If she dies, I’m going to murder him. Let Zykanth masticate him into blood and guts and gore, then spit the residue into all five seas so his cells will never bind themselves together again.
Not in this lifetime. Maybe if the world implodes, then rekindles again in the form of another.
I use a clamshell to collect a dribble of fresh water from the split in the smooth, black-stone wall, then bring it to her chapped lips, coaxing her head up. She drinks, and I feel a sense of relief, until she tips to the side and retches it straight back up again—now tinged with blood.
“It’s okay, Treasure.” I rub her back while she heaves. “You’re okay …”
A filthy lie I’ll never forgive myself for. She’s not okay.
Not at all.
Her frail, infected body buckles to the tune of her retching, and a heaviness sloshes upon my chest.
TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP.
Zykanth whips against my ribs so hard I loosen a hissed breath.‘Free Zykanth. Eat violent man and steal stick. Angry man pay for hurting treasured one.’
Orlaith falls back against the pelt of damp seaweed, head rocking side to side as she whimpers. “That sound—”
“I know, Treasure.”
I fucking know.
If she asks to be rid of it, I’ll set Zykanth free. Let him swim up there and silence Rhordyn for good.
Orlaith tries to scratch her weepy, boil-riddled skin, then whimpers and screws her face up when she realizes her hands are useless—bandaged in flat ropes of weed. She kept tearing at her skin, encouraging more sores to spawn.
I lift her, pull her close to my chest, rocking her gently.
Giving her hush sounds.
