Chapter 18 : Confusion in St. Urtha’s
Raquel’s POV
Sunlight, warm and dreamlike, hit my battered body, and I came to all at once. The encroaching darkness, the King’s body crucified to the wall, the demon wearing his brother’s skin, Mal—
“Mal!” I tried to get up from the bedroll I was stretched out on, but smooth hands with odd callouses pressed me back down. It wasn’t until I stopped thrashing, and fighting, that a cool rag was placed on my head. “Who—Marina?” I asked feverishly. “Are you there?”
“‘Fraid there’s no one around with that name, girly.” A man’s voice, light with age but with that timber of young adulthood, floated to my ears with a lowland accent. The tones of farmhands and peaceful monotony. I’d only ever heard an accent like that from my mother. Did that mean the circle had worked? Was I…somewhere near her birthplace? “Hello, ma’am, can you hear me?”