Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,45
shattered into a hundred pieces.
Rock scraped beneath my twitching fingers, and I blinked and blinked, trying to focus in the dim, murky light. I was sprawled across a small ledge that jutted out from the chasm wall, with open air only a foot past my face. Despite the overwhelming pain, I was lucky I had landed on the ledge instead of tumbling down to the bottom of the abyss . . . however deep that was.
Pain spiraled out through my left arm and leg, but the right side of my body had landed on something that wasn’t hard, solid rock, something that seemed soft, wet, and sort of . . . squishy. I slowly turned my head to the right, trying to figure out what else might be down here—
Penelope’s sightless blue eyes stared back at me.
If I’d had the breath and strength for it, I would have shrieked and jerked back in surprise, which would have sent me tumbling off the ledge to my death. But all I could do was lie there and stare at Penelope.
Conley must have shoved her into the chasm too. Only Penelope had landed solely on the hard, unyielding ledge, and the fall had killed her outright.
“I didn’t hear her hit the bottom.” Conley’s voice drifted down to me. “Give me a lantern. I want to make sure she’s dead.”
Several harsh scrapes sounded, and I shut my eyes an instant before a light fell on my face. I kept my eyes closed and willed myself not to move, twitch, or especially moan with pain.
Several seconds ticked by. I stayed frozen in place, although tears leaked out the corners of my eyes.
“She’s as dead as the other one is.” Conley’s voice drifted down to me again. “Problems solved. Now get back to work.”
The other miners grumbled, and the light on my face vanished.
I opened my eyes and peered upward, but all I could see were the faint gray glows of the flourestone lanterns casting twisted shadows on the cavern ceiling high, high above.
The steady tink of pickaxes digging into the wall rang out again. Penelope’s murder and my impending death weren’t enough to disrupt the mine’s busy schedule. After all, Conley had more tearstone to steal and deliver to the Mortans.
Tink-tink-tink. Tink-tink-tink. Tink-tink-tink.
Perhaps the severity of my injuries was dulling my senses, but the harsh sounds of the miners’ tools seemed as soft and soothing as a lullaby coaxing me to sleep. My eyes slid shut, and I drowned in the darkness.
* * *
One moment, I was lying on the ledge, willing myself not to scream with pain. The next, I was sitting at the top of the chasm, strangely pain-free, with my legs dangling off the side and my boots scraping against the rock wall below.
I glanced around, but the cavern was empty. The lanterns had been turned down low, although oddly enough, I could see much better now than before, when Conley had shoved me into the chasm.
I looked down. Thirty feet below, I could see my own body lying on the ledge, still partially sprawled across Penelope’s corpse. My eyes were shut, and my chest was rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.
I sighed. I wasn’t awake. Not really. Sometimes, when I was asleep, or in this case unconscious, I sort of . . . hovered outside my physical self, as though my mind and body were two separate entities. This sort of ghosting usually only happened when I was extremely troubled about something—or when I had been severely injured. Alvis had said it was a defense mechanism, that my magic was letting my mind wander free while my body struggled to repair itself.
I sighed again, but I leaned forward and peered down at, well, myself. It was a bit like looking in a carnival mirror, although far more unnerving. A shiver rippled through my ghostly form, as well as my physical body below, but I studied the cliff face, which looked as slick as glass. Even if my arm and leg hadn’t been broken, I still wouldn’t have been able to climb to safety. I might have used my magic to glue myself to and then push my body up the rocks, but I was far too weak for that now.
The truth slammed into me as hard as I had hit the ledge earlier. I was going to die down here, alone in the dark—
“What are you doing?” a deep, familiar voice asked.