The Sweetest Spell by Suzanne Selfors

Author:Suzanne Selfors [Selfors, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Published: 2012-08-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-nine

Slaves?” I whispered the word.

“Aye. Slaves. The king has turned our men into slaves.”

I fell back against the pillow. The Oaks were right. They hadn’t heard of a war in the mineral fields because there was no war. It was a lie. “I don’t understand.” My gaze flew across the ceiling. “How can my father be a slave? He’s a citizen of Anglund.”

“We’re dirt-scratchers,” Griffin said. “We’re scum.”

“I hate that word,” I snapped. “Don’t use it. We’re Flatlanders.”

“To everyone else we’re filthy stinking dirt-scratchers.”

I took a long, controlled breath. Lashing out at Griffin would solve nothing. “Why does the king need slaves?”

“Because he wants gold and silver and the last place in Anglund to get gold and silver is the mineral fields. But it’s a death trap. No citizen will willingly work there.” As Griffin lowered his voice, a shiver rolled down my back. “The mineral fields are the ugliest places I’ve ever seen. No trees, no animals, no river. Just a wasteland of holes. Piles of rock and dirt in every direction. And you can see the air.”

I sat up. “What do you mean you can see the air?”

“It’s so full of dust and poison you can see it. You can run your fingers through it. And there’s a yellow fog that clings to everything and takes your breath away. It comes out of the holes.” He shuddered. “The place smells like death.”

I scooted to the edge of the bed, pressing the tips of my boots on the floor. “Father can’t stay there. He’ll die.”

“All our men will die,” he said, slumping against the wall. “There are others who came before us. Convicts who were sent there instead of the noose. They looked like walking skeletons. And many were coughing up blood. They said it was from the yellow fog. That’s why the king took us dirt-scratchers. Because he doesn’t have enough convicts.”

“My father would never work as a slave. You’re lying. He’s a proud man.”

“Pride be damned, Emmeline!” He pounded his fist on the floor. “If your father refuses to dig, they’ll whip him. If he still refuses, he’ll be hanged from a rafter by his ankles and left to die in the burning sun. They toss the corpses into a pit.” Griffin’s breathing quickened, his eyes widening as he recalled the horror of the place. “I knew that if I didn’t escape on that first night, I’d never escape.”

I gripped the blanket, picturing my father breathing poison, imagining him cringing beneath the blows of a whip. “Why didn’t you take him with you?”

“I couldn’t take anyone,” he snapped. “One man could slip away, but more would have drawn attention. I had one chance and I took it.”

There was no time to waste. I needed to turn myself over to the Baroness of Salt as soon as possible so I could buy my father’s freedom. Morning couldn’t arrive fast enough.

Laughter arose from below, followed by singing. The muscles in my right leg cramped with each step as I walked to the window.

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