Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
I want my curse back.
I want all the monsters to leave, I want Pie to do some spelling to hide Saint Mark’s from any and all prying eyes, and I want us to live in our curse forever.
And it’s not gonna happen.
It’s over. The curse has been broken. Why else would the hallways have me up here stumbling into answers to questions I never really had?
“Pell?”
Apis is looking more than suspicious now. It might be panic. And I have to remind myself that he’s not on my side. Whatever is happening to me here in this palace, it’s not good. And he’s OK with this. If this were happening to Tarq, I would not be OK with it. Friends protect each other. And whatever Ptah is using me for—breeding the next godling, bleeding me out for bloodhorn magic, whatever it is—Apis has no objections. He is not going to protect me.
“Sorry.” I sigh the word out as I massage the middle of my forehead with my fingers. “Life is just changing pretty quick, ya know?”
“I get it.”
“And I don’t know what comes next.”
“Well, I do.”
“What?” I turn to look him in the eyes. He’s not my friend, and I want my friend. I know Pie doesn’t trust Tarq, but I do. And I want him to be here so bad right now so we can figure this out together. But this jerk is all I’ve got.
“We get drunk, of course.” Apis is either simple or conniving. He has a one-track mind tonight. But it is my coming-of-age so it’s hard to tell if he’s just looking for a party or pacifying me with booze. He’s got a decanter in his hand. He holds it up and shoots me a charismatic look. “Let’s get this party started. We can think about the rest of that shit tomorrow.”
I don’t want to be here tomorrow. I want to leave right now.
I walk over to the closest door, open it up, and hope.
But there’s not a new world on the other side. Just a bedroom.
I walk to the next door, do the same thing—and find the same thing.
“Pell.”
I walk to the next door, open it up, silently praying to the hallway gods to just give me a break and take me home.
They’re not listening.
“Pell.”
I just exhale and turn to Apis. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for the door home.”
“What?” He’s chuckling. “Did you start drinking without me? Don’t pass out before dark, friend. I’ve got a special surprise for you later.”
Pass out before dark? Finally, an option I can deal with.
So I walk back over to Apis, take the decanter, put it to my lips, and down a good measure of the drink inside.
It’s wine and it smells like the forest and tastes like the past.
Apis claps me on the back, roaring with approval.
Fuck it.
I do need to get drunk.
I will get drunk, and pass out, and maybe, if I’m lucky, I will wake up at home.
I tip the decanter to my lips again, and this time, I finish the whole thing.
6
I do not wake up at home.
I’m not even sure I wake up. My eyes are open, but I don’t even know where I am.
The room is… a tent. Which makes me chuckle. Because it’s like a billowy tent made of very feminine fabrics. And it’s purple.
I laugh again as I spit the word out. “Purple.”
And I’m on pillows. Giant, velvety pillows. The air is thick with incense. And when I inhale, it makes me cough. Then my head spins.
It’s not incense.
And for some reason, I find this so funny that I guffaw up at the tent poles.
“And then…” I look to my left and find Apis with a gryphon chimera writhing in his lap. They are fucking, and he’s just looking at me like it’s no big deal as he tells his story. “Do you want to know what happened then?”
“Tell me,” I manage through my laughter. “Tell me. I’m dying!”
“Then they started spelling her! Oh, my gods, Pell. Tarq was fuming in his letter. He said they cursed her, and cursed her, and cursed her. And then they turned her royal gryphon ass into a trashy little wood nymph chimera and then—then…”
“Wait.” I stop laughing. “What are we talking about?”
“W-w-what?” Apis chokes this out between fits. “The little girl. That fantasy of yours. What did I call her earlier? Oh! Tarq’s broodmare!” Meanwhile, he’s still fucking the gryphon chimera in his lap, his fingertips gripping her hips so hard, her velvety, golden skin is turning white.
That’s when I notice that there are several more gryphon chimera around us. One is rubbing her hand up and down my leg. I push her off and she goes flying backward into another mound of plush pillows, squealing with protest.
“What’d you do that for?” Apis asks.
I stand up, shake my head to try to clear the intoxication. It doesn’t help much because the tent is thick with the smoke of opium.