Springing the Trap - for Logan (and eventually Arawn)
Sarah desperately clung to consciousness as she waited for Seth to return with Logan. She knew the pivotal moment was coming when she would learn if this gamble would pay off, but she could barely think beyond the pain. She was curled up on the floor of her chambers where Victor had left her, broken and bleeding onto the fine hand-woven rug.
Every tiny movement ignited a symphony of pain. From her crushed cheekbone to her snapped wrist to the gashes across her chest, every part of her was in agony. Her simple white dressing gown was in tatters, and stained with her blood and tears. Simply breathing brought a groan to her lips, as cracked and broken ribs threatened to puncture her lungs. She wasn't sure if her leg was broken or just badly bruised, but she feared she would never walk on it again.
Worse than all of these, however, was the ache in her soul, the giant gaping hole where her magic should be. Arawn had punished her in the cruelest of ways, and taken away that which was most precious to her. Whether he had known that her magic was tied to her very life force, she did not know. At the least he must have known that without her powers she could not heal from the damage Victor had inflicted. As each second ticked off the clock, she struggled for breath, and felt herself growing weaker.
She was gambling with her life that he would come. Even if he did, she might still die. But she'd had no choice. She had asked Victor to hurt her, and the punishment he'd doled out afterwards she had deserved for her earlier insolence. She'd pledged her life to Arawn that day not long ago, and if he wanted it so badly, she would give it. At least this way, she could delude herself into thinking it was on her own terms.
She heard Seth's voice, in her mind, through the dark that threatened to consume her. "He is here, my lady."
Every tiny movement ignited a symphony of pain. From her crushed cheekbone to her snapped wrist to the gashes across her chest, every part of her was in agony. Her simple white dressing gown was in tatters, and stained with her blood and tears. Simply breathing brought a groan to her lips, as cracked and broken ribs threatened to puncture her lungs. She wasn't sure if her leg was broken or just badly bruised, but she feared she would never walk on it again.
Worse than all of these, however, was the ache in her soul, the giant gaping hole where her magic should be. Arawn had punished her in the cruelest of ways, and taken away that which was most precious to her. Whether he had known that her magic was tied to her very life force, she did not know. At the least he must have known that without her powers she could not heal from the damage Victor had inflicted. As each second ticked off the clock, she struggled for breath, and felt herself growing weaker.
She was gambling with her life that he would come. Even if he did, she might still die. But she'd had no choice. She had asked Victor to hurt her, and the punishment he'd doled out afterwards she had deserved for her earlier insolence. She'd pledged her life to Arawn that day not long ago, and if he wanted it so badly, she would give it. At least this way, she could delude herself into thinking it was on her own terms.
She heard Seth's voice, in her mind, through the dark that threatened to consume her. "He is here, my lady."