A Girl Named Calamity (Alyria 1)

I knew this man would kill me.

I begged Alyria to help me. Why had the breeze spoke to me in Alger and outside of Sylvia, but no more? I had the feeling I’d failed it. And it no longer supported me.

We’d been riding for so long that I watched the sun set over the water.

“I think it’s time for some pain. Maybe then you will decide it’s time to find the seal.”

I tensed at his words. I couldn’t handle the pain again, but neither could I pull off this charade anymore.

“I can’t find the seal.”

“What do you mean you can’t find it?” he shouted.

I flinched. “I just can’t! I’m not the right girl!” I hated to admit it. But at this point, I believed it.

His eyes hardened. “Then you are of no use to me. I may as well kill you.”

Before I could respond, the pain hit me. I grabbed my head and screamed. I vaguely remembered falling off my horse, the pain of hitting the ground was nothing compared to the agony in my head. I screamed as claws buried themselves into every piece of soft tissue in my mind. Raw and bloody, but the claws kept digging and scraping again and again. I could feel them searching around in my memories and thoughts and tugging on them.

As more memories were being torn away, they snapped back into my head at an alarming rate. The pain diminished, and I was left shaking and sweating.

“Breathe,” a familiar, deep voice said. I sucked in ragged breaths, and relief shot through my body.

My gaze went from blood splattered forearms to a familiar assassin’s face.

“You all right?”

I nodded, looking over at the dead Mage and my relief magnified by ten.

“Took you long enough,” I muttered.

He chuckled. “You are more resourceful than I ever imagined. How did you get away this time?”

I was really curious to find out what happened to him when he just disappeared with everyone else. But playing the escapee farm girl sounded like a better plan at the moment. For my ego, anyways.

I got to my feet and walked toward my horse.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To Undaley,” I said coolly.

He laughed. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” I said as I began to mount my horse.

“You’re staying here.”

“No. I’m. Not.” I was tired of being a pawn. Tired of fe

eling relief when Weston showed up, and I wouldn’t willingly follow him to the seal.

“Stay here.”

I cringed and waited for my body to comply, but all I felt was the swirl of magic around me, like a strange warm caress that gave me the shivers. It dissipated with the breeze, and somehow, it didn’t work on me. Elation settled in my stomach, and I smiled. Somehow, someway the woman had done this. Or he had used it too many times. I laughed, maybe all those times taunting him had worked in my favor.

“What woman are you thinking of?” Weston asked in a puzzled tone, and it really pleased me. It was nice for him to be confused for a change. “I know I haven’t used it enough. It takes years to stop working.”

He would know.