She let go of him and looked around, eager to find the Flesh lord and rid herself of the rot wreaking havoc on her body.
She left the bird and stumbled from the woods into which he’d dropped her, and then stood staring in wonder.
The Flesh lord’s home was a castle—huge and ancient and imposing. It rose from the grounds like a brick monster, transporting her instantly into the fairytale books of her youth.
She looked back over her shoulder. The bird had disappeared.
She limped forward, holding on to whatever tree appeared in her path, expecting at any moment for a few dozen knights to jump out in front of her.
At the thought, she heard the distant nicker of a horse. A few more steps and she heard the low hum of voices, but couldn’t tell if she were close to them or her sensitive ears were picking up sounds from far away.
She squinted, trying to see through air that had gone thick and hazy. The world spun lazily, and the ground became soft, deep sponges into which her feet sank.
“Dammit,” she whispered. She wasn’t going to make it.
But then the horse she’d heard—actually three of them, atop which sat tall, armored and armed men—ambled toward her.
“She’s in bad shape,” one of the men said. His voice seemed to bounce off the trees, echoing as though he stood at the opposite end of a tunnel.
“She should be,” another said. “Let’s take her in.”
She stood there, weak and barely conscious, as one of the men lifted her into his arms. His chest armor was hard and cold, and she shrank away from it.
“You’ll be fine, Princess,” he said.
She blacked out, and when she opened her eyes again she was belly-first over a horse. Dizzy and disoriented, she threw up.
The next time she woke up she was being carried down a long, wide, echoing hall. It was cold and she shivered uncontrollably, unable to really see anything other than high, ornate ceilings.
She heard people.
Women laughing somewhere deep in the castle and the teasing tones of male voices. Puppies yapping hysterically, and even, once, she caught the persuasive tones of a violin.
Her stomach rumbled at the wafting scents of roasting meats and baking cakes and oh sweet God above, coffee.
“Coffee,” she mumbled.
“You’ll get everything you want, Princess,” someone promised.
“The cure.” I want the fucking cure.
“Soon,” he said. “Rest now.”
She started to inform him that she couldn’t rest against the uncomfortable armor, but realized she was lying on a table.
Her head was resting on a small pillow, and her body was covered. She was missing the long blade Z had given her, and she felt naked without it.
That could have been because she was naked.
The air caressed her skin, air that was too cold.
Too strange.
The room was dim, the ceiling above too dark for her to see. She turned her head, slowly, and realized her pain was gone.
She might well have been drugged—she felt only heaviness. She couldn’t move her legs or lift her arms.
There was no pain. No dizziness.
She blinked away the fuzziness of her vision and as it cleared, she began to realize where she was.
A lab. She was in a lab.
A woman appeared suddenly, her face a mass of wrinkles. Her iron gray hair had been pulled back into a severe knot at the back of her head, and her clothes consisted of a worn rust colored robe and a long, black silk scarf wound around her neck.
She grinned, and her black eyes nearly disappeared in the overlapping lids. She appeared to have no teeth.
“I’ve healed you,” she said, lifting her chin. “Sleep now. You’ll feel better when you awaken.” She brushed a soft, lined hand over Rune’s face. “Sleep, Princess.”
Rune slept.
She dreamed of her monster and witches and wizards.
And labs and babies and cowboys.
She dreamed of serial killers and ghouls and berserkers.
When she woke up she was on a pallet on the throne room floor, and the strange dog, Sorrow, was lying at her side.
Chapter Seventeen
“Sorrow?” She sat up, her heart beating fast, as though the fear of a forgotten dream lingered.
The room was cold, vast, and echoing. It was also full of people, gathered by the walls, watching her.
Or maybe they watched Sorrow.
Rune looked around, dazed, taking it all in. The details of her arrival at the castle were hazy, but slowly, her mind cleared.
Someone had dressed her in soft, clean jeans, a plain blue shirt, and boots that