Fox Of Greed (Greedy Fox Book 1)

~~ FORTY ONE~~

Nostrils flared, every muscle in my body tensed as he spat out bloodied saliva again. He wiped the corner of his mouth and rose, the same sharpness to his form that I'd seen in the doorway of the tattoo parlour. Something inside me niggled for attention, a haze of scattered memories drowned out by white noise.

"Look, I know how this looks but rest assured you're safe now," he said, hands out, placating.

A sword rested against his thigh. Instinct jumped to life in me and I lunged forward, ripping it free faster than he could react. I was momentarily stunned by my speed and the effortless in which I held the blade, like it belonged in my hand.

Leraj took his chance, knocking the blade from my numb grasp. My body thrummed with a burst of adrenaline; I kneed him in the gut. He flew back and landed heavily, a crumpled ball wheezing in the dirt.

"Should have seen that coming," he muttered then groaned as he rose to his feet. His shoulders were slumped, eyes haggard and it was now that I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of the tattoos and scars that usually shone bright.

A part of me fought to rush to his side, to hold him tight and comfort him. My grip tightened on the blade in repulsion and, to hide the warring battle within, I raised the tip so it quivered in his direction.

"Start talking," I spat.

He sighed and gestured to a set of bags on the ground and two horses watching with bright eyes and tuned ears. "We may as well sit, this will be long. You can put the blade down, Estra. I'm not going to do much in this state." He hobbled to the bags and sank to the ground on top of one. He patted the ground beside him.

"I think I'll stand." But I let the blade fall to my side, the weight an eerie comfort.

"You sure? Because what I'm about to say will... will startle you."

"Speak! Tell me what you did. How did we end up here? Where even is here? Why can't I remember anything after the parlour?"

"After... after I found you in the tattoo parlour, you were transported to Liones. Estra, you've been living as a Holy Knight under Hendrickson's tutelage."

I crumbled, crosslegged, onto the ground. The blade fell free of my fingers. The world spun, black and white and red, and I was finding it difficult to breathe past the lump in my throat. "What?" I wanted to say more, ask more but it was the only word that forced itself out.

"You were a Holy Knight."

The memories flickered by again, stronger this time, persistent to show me. Show it all to me until I was drowning in scenes that couldn't have been me but there I was, my voice, my hands, my reflection in a mirror. It all came rushing back and when my eyes refocused on Leraj, something bubbled within me.

At first, I thought it was fear and shock mixed into an ugly cocktail. But no, what brewed was obsidian and angry, coiling deep in my heart and pumping strength into my limbs.

My hands latched onto his throat, embers and flames scattering as I dove through the fire. A ghastly screech – halfway between a roar and a scream – emitted from my mouth as I curled my fingers tighter, watching the panic play out on his face.

"You monster!" I screamed, spittle flying, as he scrabbled in the dirt. He got his heels planted, arms on my waist, and flipped us. My back hit the ground hard, my ragged breaths stolen on impact. My hands relaxed and he tore them from his throat, forcing them to the ground overhead with one forearm and the other hand in the centre of my chest keeping me pinned.

I shook, legs flailing but he was positioned on my hips, holding me down with gritted teeth. Then he barked something in a foreign language and I froze, a coldness seeping into me.