“He’d run for blocks on a strong wave of panic and hadn’t slowed down until he’d reached the bridge to Fensgate Parish and crossed it to find himself at last back in the familiar square outside JhaPel.
By that time, his side ached from running, and he’d started to bleed again. He guessed he looked horrible and was glad he hadn’t passed close enough to anyone to be seen for what he was.
A whore.
That’s what Telyr had meant when he’d mocked Michael on the steps of JhaPel. It had jus...t been a taunt, but now Michael couldn’t help but wonder if Telyr had expected it to come true.
I still need to find Pol. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave the relative safety of the garden wall. He couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything but sleep.
Hours drifted by, flowing around him with the lethargic indolence of a slow river on a hot summer day, and he drifted with them, in and out of sleep and in and out of awareness.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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