Queen's Ransom_The Golden Bulls of Minos by Isabel Wroth

Author:Isabel Wroth [Wroth, Isabel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Isabel Wroth
Publisher: Isabel Wroth
Published: 2018-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"...mine! It's mine, mine mine!"

Jalia wasn't sure if it was the shrill shrieks of triumph or the agony pounding in her head that brought her back to life, but whatever the cause was, she came to, lying in a heap on the ground with something sticky pooling in her ear.

She tried to push herself up, but the movement made her so dizzy her belly immediately ejected the contents of her hearty breakfast.

The forced spasms hurt her head even more, and when she was finally able to take a breath not choked with vomit, when her blurry vision cleared enough to see, the bright light that filled the heart of the maze drilled another spike of agony into her already tormented brain.

Jalia shaded her eyes as best she could, taking a moment to notice and wonder why her hand was covered in blood.

Oh, wonderful.

Were her entrails still inside her body? Check.

Eyeballs in working order? Obviously.

She still had her tongue, her hands, all her appendages seemed to be in the right place. So, either Entayta had merely been screaming to her gods for no reason other than to frighten Jalia, or she'd gotten distracted by the glitter of gold at the center of the maze and decided bashing Jalia's head in was good enough.

Able to peek through her lashes, Jalia saw Entayta skipping around the illuminated chamber like a little girl, twirling and claiming something was hers.

Jalia would have snorted her distaste, but it would have hurt too much. She must have made a sound to alert Entayta to the fact that she was still alive, because the Nirian whirled toward her, her saliva coated lips peeling back like she was rabidly trying to bare her teeth.

"It's MINE!" she screamed violently.

Entayta snatched up the nearest crown and shoved it on her head with a snarl of victory. Jalia blinked, and the insane elite was gone, the only trace of her left behind was a smear of blood and dirt on the white tile she'd been standing on.

Vanished, literally in the blink of an eye.

Oh, lovely.

'Not what it seems,' meant the floor fell out from under you if you chose the wrong crown. Wasn't that nice?

Skull splitting apart in her hands, Jalia closed her eyes to take deep breaths, hoping to dispel the dizziness before she stood up.

It helped a little, but even though her vision began to steady, her stomach still churned and heaved. It hurt to breathe; it hurt to think, every beat of her heart pumped blood through her veins, which hurt.

She was so tired of hurting, but she supposed it was her own fault she'd turned her back on the crazy woman promising to kill her.

Jalia leaned against the cool stone, the toe of her shoes just barely touching the black tiles the circled the room, the wedges of white tiles bisecting it like a starburst.

Entayta had been running around the room, so it stood to reason the black tiles weren't unstable, but it looked like every single crown within touching distance sat on a pedestal surrounded by white tiles.

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