A Girl Named Calamity (Alyria 1)

My heart was beating faster, and if he was lying, I was going to stab him.

Get real, Cal. You’ll try.

“You heard me,” he drawled.

I looked at the field in unsettlement and then back at him. He could see the uncertainty on my face and apparently thought it was funny enough that he laughed.

I frowned. “This is stupid.”

He laughed again. “Well, I’ve never had a hostage who didn’t want to get away.”

“Shut up,” I retorted. “You’re bored, and you’re playing some kind of sad game on me. And I don’t want to play.” I crossed my arms.

A grin pulled on his lips. “Admit it, Princess. You’re scared.”

“Call me princess one more time . . .” I growled.

Again, not the thing I was pissed about.

I told myself I would get through this without playing his game, but then, what he said next had my pesky issues coming out full force.

“You got a thing for me, Princess? I’ve had less clingy maids, who hadn’t seen another man in a year.”

I had to bite my tongue. Hard. And tell my mouth I’m the one in charge here.

“You’ll escort me to Undaley?” I growled, not being able to be near him for another second without stabbing him.

“I’ve never been around someone who thinks so much about stabbing another person until you, and you think I’m the lunatic?”

“I swear—”

“You get across that field. I’ll escort you to Undaley.”

“And I get to stab you,” I said. That was definitely going to be part of this stupid deal, or no deal at all.

He smiled, like that was a standard term in an agreement. “And you can stab me,” he repeated.

I didn’t know if I could stab someone while they just held still, but that was a moot point because if I did this, he’d take me to Undaley.

“How do I know you aren’t lying?” I asked.

“You don’t.”

Well, at least he was honest about that.

That had to count for something, right?

I turned to the field and watched the long grass swaying in the breeze. Nothing abnormal about it stuck out to me. I had no idea what this was all about, but, maybe the magic that I was supposed to have would get me through this. Because there was no doubt, there was something odd about this. Or maybe Weston was insane, and I would make it across the field just fine. Yea, I’d latch onto that thought.

I stared at the swaying grass and bit my lip in reflection while a thought gnawed at me until I spit it out. “I’d rather go the way we came from,” I tried.

He smiled. “Nah, the field is fine.”

And, there it is.

Definitely something wrong with it. Nervousness settled in my stomach and grew by the minute. How could I not try? If not for Alyria, then for myself. I needed to be the brave farm girl from Alger.

The stupid fortune teller’s omen swirled around in my stomach unwanted. But I couldn’t let her ramblings take over my life. I looked at Weston; he was sitting down, leaning against a tree with his forearm resting on his knee. The sight of him, being at ease, made my blood hot enough that I mounted Gallant and walked him towards the field. Weston was so relaxed, and yet I was in a constant state of turmoil. Talk about frustrating.