A Hex of Wolves by Kate Krake

Author:Kate Krake [Krake, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Krakenfire Media
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

A slow drip of water stirred me from a heavy slumber. Drip, drip, followed by a trickling sound. It was too unsteady to be rain. Was it a leaking tap? I’d have Conri check it out. He was good at stuff like that, and it was always cute seeing him so proud of himself for fixing things around the house.

What time was it? Why did my head feel so strange? Why was it so cold? My arm was hurting, my whole body was aching. And what on earth was that annoying sound? Every thought screeched to a halt as I finally opened my eyes.

Darkness.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw candles. I most definitely was not at home in bed.

I was tied down, strapped to a wooden pallet, lying on my back in a decline, my head lower than my feet. Dim candlelight lit the surrounding space. A man’s murmuring voice came from beyond the edges of the darkness, muttering an incantation.

My arms were bound with leather straps. Tape held a filthy surgical tube in my wrist. My blood flowed through the tube, the drip and trickle I’d heard, into a shining brass bowl that sat below me on a rickety stool.

“Stanaumel, I’m guessing,” I said to the man I still couldn’t see properly. There was no reply.

What had happened to Conri and Jaz? Had they gone to the Clancys’ house? Were they even alive? There was no way to know. I could only focus on what I did know. My mouth was sore and tasted vile. My head clouded with pain and vertigo. Horror coursed through my every cell, but I was alive, for now, and that had to be enough.

I struggled to focus through the gloom. It was some kind of shed or barn. Strange sigils, painted in broad, rough strokes, adorned the corrugated iron walls. Sheets of burlap, also painted in occult symbols, hung from the ceiling beams.

I tried pushing my senses outward, hoping to feel what magic was working in this cursed place, or to find a trace of Yola. I was weak. Whatever had been blocking my power these last days was nothing compared to the drain from this bloodletting.

There was no sign of the child, but I did sense something familiar. Something I had tasted before. Of course. How could I have missed that? My power had been sluggish ever since that bastard had touched me in Graham’s shop. The thin thread of magic passing between us when he’d laid his finger on me was a hex. That same magic coursed through this place. How could I have been so dumb not to realize it? I had been struggling to do any spells for days because of him. But now it was even worse. What little power I had left was leaking out of me, a dim glow like a lamp running on a failing battery. Feeling so empty was one thing, but realizing that vile wizard had stolen from me, right there in the

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