Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
***
The following day at breakfast, Vasilios was particularly frosty with me. He mostly ignored me as he conversed with Sven, who appeared intrigued by the tense atmosphere between us.
“So, how did Sarasin’s Midnight go?” Sven asked, his yellow eyes fixed on me. “I heard you were chosen for the Gift. That was a stroke of luck.”
“Not really,” I grumped and ate a bite of dry bread, sorely missing the culinary delights of the night before. Where were my candied apples? My perfectly seasoned green beans? The cherry tomatoes had been an explosion of taste in my mouth. Perhaps it would be worth facing Sarasin’s Curse if it meant I could stay in his greenhouse for a month and eat all the lovely vegetables he grew there.
“You don’t believe in luck?” Sven questioned.
“No. I just don’t consider seeing the future a lucky thing. In my case, it’s rather unlucky.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Do you suffer a particularly grisly death?”
I shook my head.
“Do all of your children die of famine and disease? Are you kidnapped and tortured in the basement of a psychopath? Does your house burn to the ground destroying all of your earthly possessions?”
“No to all three. Why are you asking me this?” I replied grumpily.
“I just thought your future must not be a very good one if you’re this unhappy about it,” Sven said, his voice matter-of-fact.
“Oh, I see. You’re trying to teach me to look on the bright side, is that it? Well, I don’t need glass-half-full lessons from a murderer, thank you very much.”
“Look around you. You’re surrounded by murderers. At least with me, you can have an intelligent conversation.”
“Perhaps that’s the catch. Sarasin’s gift can be a curse, and his curse might be a gift, depending on how you want to look at it,” Vasilios interjected quietly, echoing what Lara said to me last night. He levelled his eyes at me, addressing me for the first time that morning. “What is it about your future that’s so disappointing anyway?”
You, I thought. You are what’s disappointing about my future. I shifted my attention to the watery soup in front of me. “I don’t wish to discuss it with either of you.”
I could feel his attention boring into me before a wave of his magic hit me like a sonic boom. A loud crack sounded from above. We looked up and saw one of the glass skylights had cracked down the middle. What the hell? It was directly above us and about to shatter when Vasilios moved like lightning, picking me up and carrying me away before blades of glass rained down on us.
Chaos broke out as the other prisoners roared in triumph, some already attempting to climb to the ceiling and escape. Others who’d been cut by the glass raged about their injuries, and soon enough, little fights were breaking out all over the place. I could smell blood coming from every direction, and my hunger tried to take over.
“We should get out of here,” Sven said, and Vasilios nodded.
“How did that happen?” I asked, still a little in shock.
“Now isn’t the time to talk about it. Let’s go,” Vasilios said, grabbing my hand and tugging me from the dining hall. The chaos was quickly escalating. More and more prisoners began fighting amongst themselves, others rioting like it was a free for all. I briefly wondered if it was somehow a part of Vasilios and Sven’s escape plan, but no, they seemed just as shocked by the skylight shattering as I was.
We lost track of Sven as he headed toward his cell while Vasilios led me to his. Sirens began blaring around the prison, deafening us as we stepped inside Vasilios’s cell. We both stood there, endeavouring to catch our breaths, when the barred doors slid shut, and the locks clicked over. I remembered him telling me that the guards locked the cells with magic when they needed to gain control of the prisoners, but it was my first time witnessing it first-hand.
And crap! I should be in my own cell, not Vasilios’s. I rushed to the bars, trying to shove them open, but it was no use. We were locked in, and who knew how long it would be before we were let out again. I glanced at Vasilios and found him behind me, his eyes scanning left and right, his breathing heavy. Then he looked down, checking me over. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, and his eyes held mine. At that moment, I saw something far more shocking than the craziness that had just broken out in the dining hall. I saw real fear and genuine concern for my safety. All that time, I’d been convincing myself that Vasilios was acting, faking that he cared about me, but right then, there was no denying it. I saw it in the way he took me in, as though making sure every single part of me was unharmed. There was a realness about it that was undeniable.