“Correagal is a city of bridges. One hundred and twenty-seven of them, on most days,…” Learn more about this storytelling project and the people behind it here.
A frightful screech cut off the rest of what Barris was about to say, and the next instant something large and heavy landed on his back. Tierce’s eyes went wide and he heard Romeric shout something, but mostly he was only aware of the spitting, hissing beast that was now on top of him. He dropped under the weight of its impact, knees hitting hard against the stone pavement. Claws, needle-sharp, dug through the fabric of his shirt and he flailed with his arms to try and dislodge whatever it was.
Then, just as fast as it had pounced, it launched itself into the air again.
“I don’t think it likes you,” Tierce said, looking up at Barris in a daze.
Head spinning, heart aching, Tierce swayed on his feet in middle of the Bridge of Blades, unable to stop the maelstrom of conflicting emotions that assaulted him. For the first time since he came to Corregal, he wished that he’d never met Sieur Eristan, because then he never would have met his beautiful daughter, who never would be, never could be, his. He wished he’d never come to Corregal at all.
Everything hurt, but that was all right. She’d earned it. Stretched flat on the ground in the abandoned garden, Neda couldn’t repress a ridiculous grin. Tierce probably thought she was crazy, but she didn’t care. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was doing exactly what she was meant to be doing, and it was glorious.