Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I went into my room, waiting for Nira to leave me with Knight standing guard at the door so she could fetch lunch, then I ran into the water closet with a flask, a jar of my lake water, and the blooms.
I sat on the floor, carefully squeezing the sap into the flask, making sure not to let any of it touch my skin, then pouring water inside while whispering to it to help amplify the Stillwater’s effects.
Finished, I capped the flask and gave it a good shake before carefully hiding it under the bed near the wall.
Sitting.
Fermenting.
Getting more powerful.
The only problem being… how would I know it was working? I suppose I could take a chance and try it myself. Worst case, I had my water to heal me.
Somewhere down below the bedroom window, their eerie chants rose up, an annoying sound that got more grating the longer I listened—like a set of cicadas calling to each other from distant trees.
Glancing down, I saw them.
Standing a few feet away from a frustrated Jet, their red heads glowing with sticky blood.
Jet told me that the Light claimed my lake.
But the fact that I was considering using the redcaps as my test subjects made me wonder if I was maybe a little more Dark than Light.
I mean, it wouldn’t kill them. At least I was reasonably sure. That said, they would have a hell of a few days. And Jet would be a few nuisances short while they recovered.
There weren’t a lot of downsides.
I would let it steep for a few hours. Then once Jet was asleep, I would try one drop. If I felt unwell, I’d take a drink of my water. And I’d have my answer. If I didn’t get sick, then maybe it needed to steep longer or have less water. I didn’t have long to play with my experiment, but I was excited about the possibilities.
If I got the combination right, I would also need to figure out how to mask the bitter taste and find a discreet way to carry it with me.
There was a knock at the bedroom door, making me hop up and rush over, figuring Nira had her hands full.
When I pulled the door open, though, it wasn’t Nira standing there. It was the laundress.
Knight looked at me uncertainly because he was standing guard, but he’d seen the laundress in and out of the room almost daily.
I couldn’t tell her to go away, since I was still playing my part as the silent princess. What could I do but take a step back and wave toward the basket of laundry?
She offered me a polite smile and went to the basket, gathering up mine and Jet’s dirty laundry, then making her way back to the door.
If I was the same person I’d been just a week ago, I wouldn’t have seen it. This new, improved version of me was different. More observant. Quicker thinking. Faster moving.
I noticed the way the laundress tensed, how she reached into her pocket when holding the laundry was a task that required both of them.
Then she turned toward me.
And lunged.
The light caught on something sharp in her hand. Something to prick me with, no doubt. To inject more Bellhush into my system like Grimwood was likely paying her to do.
I had no silly little sword. But the movements to block were the same, weapon or no.
I struck out, using my wrist against her arm, pushing it out wide.
The laundress’s eyes widened.
But she had a job to do. And she wasn’t going to fail now that she caught me alone.
The laundry fell to the floor, tangling in our legs as we struggled.
I grabbed her wrist, fingers curling in enough to drag a cry out of the woman as she tried to retreat, taking me with her until the bed caught the back of her legs. She lost her footing, falling backward. I went with her.
We both struggled for the top. And as strong as I had gotten recently, it was nothing to a lifetime of stirring clothes with a wooden spoon in a massive vat, scrubbing them against a board, then wringing out the excess water. The woman gained the advantage, rising over me, her legs pinning mine as we fought over the arm with the hollow needle.
She yanked her arm free of mine, then quickly tried to plunge the needle into my arm.
I grabbed her wrist with both my hands, pushing with everything I had, making my arms shake with the effort.
“What the fuck?” Jet’s voice roared.
I watched as the laundress’s eyes went huge, as horror filled them when she became very aware of her fate.
Jet’s footsteps thundered across the room, grabbing the woman about the waist and pulling her, flailing, backward.
“Watch her hand,” I demanded, folding upward, panting for breath.