Her lids drifted shut as she collected herself, and her lungs were nearly bursting with air; her body was one, incessant throb of aches and pain. A wetness tickled against her side, where she was pressed against that hard, unforgiving surface.
It was an effort not to fall back into blissful unawareness.
Maybe she could just…
Luella jerked, her neck twinging as her head lifted from the rough surface.
Her face was damp, water clinging to her lashes from how her cheek had been pressed against the… wood? Was it wood? Her fingers moved, fumbling to feel. She scratched her nail against the surface and felt the hard prick of a grain, pieces of splinters against the pads of her fingers.
Itwaswood.
The rocking motion of the wooden thing, the floating coffin, hit her all at once.
Her whole body locked up, sending pain down her spine and out through the crushed wings at her back.
She was on a boat.
A whimper escaped her. "No," she breathed, the sound like the dull blade of a knife scraping against stone. "No, no,no."
It all came rushing back to her.
Speaking with Tharen, getting through to him, the close of the curtain. Walking into the trees, the two Fallen, her struggle.
Her sluggish mind worked to sift through the memories. What had been the very last thing she saw?
It hit her, then.
The pommel of a dagger, crashing right for her head.
Then, nothing.
They had knocked her unconscious and dumped her in a boat?
Luella shifted, trying to sit up. Eventually, she was able to, but it was awkward. Each movement sent pain radiating out through her limbs. Her head pounded, her arm hurt, her fingers throbbed, and her back burned.
She leaned heavily against the side of the boat. She could barely lift her head. Though, when she did, she felt bile rise to the back of her throat at what she saw.
Nothing but water.
It wrapped around the tiny boat, which bobbed over the calm surface. Seagulls swooped low, cawing. She shook with fear. The wind increased, the white clouds were fast-moving, and harbingers of her storm approached.
The coarse rope wrapped around her wrists was tight, cutting off her circulation. Her gown stuck to her skin with sweat and… blood. Her breaths were ragged as she stared down at the dark blood crusted on her gown; the movement made her arm flare with pain.The lance of a blade, against her flesh.
One of the Fallen had cut her.
Luella twisted her head to see. No fresh blood, just dark red crusted around the inflamed skin of her upper arm.
It all fell into place.
Fury, the likes of which she had never felt before, gripped her with ferocious intensity.
The Fallen had hurt her, tied her up, and cast her out to sea because they’d been too cowardly to deal her death with their own hands.
"They’re going to regret this," she prayed. "And my Vincire will come for me," she sobbed. "They will."
Luella’s empty stomach grumbled as the hours went on. Her mouth was so dry. Why could it not rain? She would wish for nothing ever again.
The water around her was so, so tempting. Sparkling and blue. Her bound hands rested against the side of the boat, hercheek pressed against them as she stared dazedly at the surface, watching her reflection cast back to her.
