Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
This is the common theme for all the stories, but how he breaks free and reunites with his one true love has several dozen versions. But eventually, they come together and spend eternity destroying the god towers and reuniting the liberated gods with their spark goddesses.
He’s more of a tower-slayer in these stories, if you ask me. But… no one asks me anything.
I pout, holding the book to my chest as I look down at my feet. I’m still upset. Still in shock from the absolutely denigrating attack I just suffered from my own aunt. Who, up until just a few minutes ago, was a person I looked up to.
What did I ever do to her?
What did I do?
“Jasina?”
I turn, startled, and find Ceela standing in the entrance that leads to this space. “You scared me.”
She lifts up one shoulder in a half apology. “Sorry. I just got worried when you didn’t come back from the restroom. What are you doing?”
Her tone started light enough, but that last question… I dunno. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but it came out accusatory.
I hold up the book. “I saw this on the shelf the other night. The Godslayer and His Courtesan. Remember that one?”
She smiles, but… is it fake? I can’t tell. Auntie’s words are now rumbling through my head. If he throws you away too soon, my dear, you will be discarded by us as well.
Ceela would take my place as lead. Even though I consider her a friend—I do, I really, really do—she is… bold. Like I am. Like I was, at least. Until I nearly got raped by the boy assigned as my escort and then got slapped around by the woman I trusted most in this world, that is.
Ceela is a natural ringleader. So I need to be careful about what I say here. What if Auntie has already offered her my job if I should fail?
Might Ceela have an interest in helping me fail?
“Remember when we used to read this book together when we were kids?”
Ceela makes a face. “What are you talking about? I never read that book. I hate fairy tales.”
“It’s not a fairy tale, it’s a myth. And of course you’ve—”
“I said I didn’t, Jasina. Why are you arguing with me?”
“What?”
“You’re acting weird. What are you doing in here?”
Again, I hold out the book. “I just told you. I wanted this book.” I snap these words at her the same way she snapped her words at me.
But she’s preoccupied, busy scanning this space for clues as to why I might be here that don’t include this book, and I’m counting my blessings right now that she didn’t find me upstairs in that space where the door is. Because she would’ve figured it out.
Finally, she blows out a breath. There is nothing to see here. It really is about a book and she has accepted it. But her words are still terse and they come with a look of high suspicion. “You’re testy today.”
I scoff, clutching the book to my chest, then push past her and start walking back to my nook. “Yeah, well, you would be too if Donal Oslin tried to rape you in the hallway and Matron Bell slapped you across the face for not making progress.”
“What? Jasina! Why didn’t you say something?” Finally, she sounds nearly normal again. Her silk-slippered feet patter behind me as she hurriedly catches up.
“Because I was shaking, Ceela. And confused. And I wanted a stupid fucking book to make myself feel better. And then you come along, trying to accuse me of something—”
“I didn’t! I wasn’t!”
“Whatever. I’ll be in my nook.”
“But our dresses!”
“Fuck the dresses.” I make my way back to our space, then disappear around a curve of a wall that leads to my nook. I stop, pressing my back against the plaster, trying to not to hyperventilate as I listen, to determine if Ceela is following me.
But she’s not. A few seconds later, I do hear her whispering, though. All four of them, actually.
So that’s it, I guess. She’s turned them against me somehow. What a great day. I lost my aunt and all four of my friends.
I have nothing left but this job.
A job I don’t even want to do anymore.
I continue into my nook, flop down onto my bed, open the book and start to read.
But I can’t even see the words over the tears that spill out of my eyes and flow down my cheeks.
I stay curled up in bed with the Godslayer all afternoon and evening. I don’t even get up for dinner. I just listen to the sounds of Little Sisters all through the dorm. They are busy, busy, busy sewing dresses because tomorrow is a prize day and someone gets to have to have dinner with the Extraction Master tomorrow night.