I was tied to a post in the middle of a valley on a stone altar with heavy chains wrapped around my chest, arms pinned to my sides.
And I was alone.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered.
Maybe I did get captured too much.
I still felt sluggish and heavy, the compulsion elixir still running through me.
Which
was just peachy.
I hadn’t been out that long, though. The sun was still high in the sky. There were fat white clouds above and bright green grass below. A soft breeze blew through my hair. It smelled sweet. It would have been relaxing had I not been chained to a sacrificial altar and the fact that I did not smell sweet. Apparently, at some point during my unconsciousness, I’d been sprayed with what tasted like some kind of meat juice (what I hoped was some kind of meat juice and not the pheromones taken from the anal glands of a yak) that I’m sure was supposed to make me more appetizing to any large predators that wanted to eat me.
I wondered just how many people Eloise had done this to.
Or what they were going to do to Gary and Tiggy and Ryan.
I turned my head as far as I could, trying to look behind me. I couldn’t see much as the post was very wide. Just the valley stretched out far.
The altar itself looked brand new, the stone smooth and shining in the sun, and I remembered that technically, there had only been a cult to use such an altar for fifty-seven days, and I gave serious thought to Ryan’s comment that I really did seem to be the common denominator to Verania’s what-the-fuckery.
But then I remembered one time that Morgan had accidentally become an amnesiac bearded lady in a carnival for six months and decided it was more of a wizard thing than a Sam thing.
I felt better after that.
For a couple of minutes at least.
Then I was just bored.
“I’d really like not to be chained in the middle of a field,” I told no one in particular.
Ten minutes later.
“CHEESY DICKS and candlesticks! And everything you need! Listen as I sing a verse or six here in this land of sloth and greed!”
Ten minutes after that.
“HEH. RYAN wants to do me. Sweet.”
Five minutes after that.
“OH MY gods. He wants to do me! What the fuck am I going to do? He’s engaged to the Prince. Everyone is going to find out and I’ll be a home wrecker and I’ll be arrested and thrown in the dungeons and poop in buckets and I won’t ever see the light of day again. All because I couldn’t control my feelings and my erection and I…”
Thirty-four minutes after that.
“…AND WHAT if he gets married and tries to make me his thing on the side? I won’t be a godsdamn dirty secret! I’m a fucking wizard, and I won’t be a strumpet, a warm hole for him to dive into when the frigid Prince doesn’t feel like getting it up. Fuck you, Ryan Foxheart! Fuck you and everything about you! I don’t need this. I was perfectly fine…”
Twenty-six minutes after that.
“…AND YOU can sure as shit bet that if he makes me dress up in a garter belt, I’m going to make him wear one too. I’m not going to let his kinks rule over mine. I want to fuck him while he wears nothing but a—oh. That’s better.”
Because all of a sudden, that heavy, sodden feeling lifted as if it’d never been there at all. I could think clearly. My magic crawled along my skin. I still felt the little tickle at the back of my throat and neck that said obey, obey, obey, but it was starting to fade. It wouldn’t last that much longer.
And now I was just cranky and pissed off.
The chains didn’t appear magicked to bind me in place. There were some halfhearted runes carved into the altar, but they weren’t complete and were done with a novice hand. Suddenly the missing people from around Old Clearing made much more sense. They had to have been taken by Eloise’s cult and placed here as a sacrifice to the dragon. What a bitch.