The Gate by Brandi Schonberg

Author:Brandi Schonberg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Episodic/Lights Out Ink
Published: 2022-04-26T21:15:14+00:00

The door slammed, metal and stone grating against one another as Amarynn was unceremoniously deposited on the stone floor of a dungeon cell. The blade had missed her heart, and the freezing pain of healing was tearing through her even as she was pulled from the throne room. Had her heart been struck, the injury would have been as difficult to recover from as Matteus’ slice of her throat. Amarynn’s breath gurgled, and she coughed up clotted blood. Her thoughts came slow and foggy, but the blood vessels in her neck were coming back together and feeding much-needed oxygen to her brain.

Little breaths.

Tiny shards of bone eased back into place above her breastplate, each piece like a needle slicing through the tissue sending shocks of pain across her chest. As the pressure in her vessels began to return, her heart gained strength; she could feel its pulse through to her spine. Amarynn went through the healing routine in her head as air trickled into her lungs like rivulets of water.

Just sip at the air. You are fine.

Whenever battle wounds made her feel like she was asphyxiating and panic began to rise, she soothed herself with the steady beat of her heart returning to life. It might have been easier to sleep through the healing process, but vigilance required she stay alert. Opportunities usually presented themselves when she played dead, and she was sure this was no exception.

Hours passed while she faded in and out of consciousness, but her breathing became less labored as the suffocating heat in the cell heat dried out her mouth and nose. She could feel the stone floor beneath her, against her cheek, and when she ventured to open her eyes, only dim light greeted her. At least in Venalise’s chambers, there had been a healthy glow from her hearth. Now, the light was so scarce that shadows were difficult to discern. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she made out the iron bars looming on either side of the cell. She lifted her head as far as she could and saw stone lining the back wall, but with that movement tore a ragged cough through her lungs, and she was instantly overcome with the memory of Lors pushing his dagger into her chest. He had aimed high to miss her heart on purpose, no doubt.

She coughed again, then experimentally opened and closed her hands, rubbing them against the stone to combat the prickling sensation that permeated her limbs. They felt better — not strong, but at least she could make a fist. She lay there for several minutes letting the magic finish its work. Finally, she felt like she could move.

Rolling over to her back, she swallowed hard as a wave of dizziness hit her full force. For a moment, all she could do was close her eyes and try not to vomit.

Images replayed in her mind.

Flashes of the throne room.

Lors’ poisonous smile.

Another coughing fit wracked her body, and another before she could breathe without gagging.

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