Chapter 179

Ella

“It’s all right, Ella” The first priest says, approaching me as one might a skittish horse with slow, measured movements and hands exposed to show he holds no weapon. “We only want to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” I question shakily, my back flush against the locked door.

“You have a very powerful magic inside you, and if it’s allowed to come out you’ll be exposed. We can’t let that happen.” He explains, using a tone much too gentle to be trustworthy. It’s as though he’s trying to trick me, to convince me he’s kind when he truly intends malice.

“I don’t have any magic.” I insist, wishing that I did.

Maybe if I was magic I might be able to put a stop to the things happening here – to protect the others without bringing harm to myself. I was so preoccupied with this statement thatI almost missed the second piece of information. “Exposed to what?”

“You do, it just hasn’t shown itself yet.” The second priest sighs, keeping his distance but watching me with sharp eyes. “At least not in ways you understand. Tell me, have you never noticed how much stronger you are than your peers? That you can hear and smell things from much greater distances? That you can run faster, jump higher,- suffer greater injuries with less pain?” He inquires, his hawkish gaze searing into me, “do they not follow you? Gravitate to your side and obey you as a leader?”

My head spins, making me dizzy with the possibilities. He guesses correctly, but that can’t be because I have some sort of special power. It’s just the way things are. isn’t it?

“It must happen when

of pure dread

second man proclaims, “And I’m sorry that this must happen, it will not be

head, fighting back tears. Their words are triggering every alarm bell in my young mind I know what men do to little

runs cold, and my pulse races, triggering a strange new energy deep in my bones. It pulses through me like a bolt of electricity, a wild thing writhes just beneath my skin, feral and rabid – begging to be

“Her timing was sp0t on –

priest professes gravely, closing the distance between us. “We would not do

unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes over my senses. My instincts are screaming at me to run, to

than I am bearing

rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus on

are deeper than my own, thick with grief and

tinged with concern, joins

voice, floating above me, replies.

at all. They continue with their task with single- minded focus, and i’m nothing more than a pawn in their game – tiny and helpless to

floor and pinned down. The first priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on my kicking legs,

and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body,

my sides and my legs tightly shut, Im completely immobile. I can’t move a muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend to mummify me alive. Just before the silk falls over

to move or speak. I can only lie there motionless, my brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something – anything! But nothing happens because

the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? A bottle unc0rking? FoI all the fabric’s strength, it does not stop me from feeling or smelling. My nose is filled with some pungent, herbaceous fragrance a

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