6/30/2023 0 Comments A little hatred trilogy“But if I said it that way, no one would reckon me a deep thinker.” “Eleven times out of twelve, that’s the best course.” Isern scratched at the hollow above her collarbone and winked. Rikke spat, but her mouth still tasted like despair. Mayhap the turning of time’s wheel shall unlock the secrets of these visions.” Isern held a fingertip to her scarred lips, the way she did when she was on the verge of deep pronouncements. “Or a tiny little lamb, I guess? What does it mean?” “I saw Uffrith burning.” Rikke could almost smell the smoke still. “I saw… a battle, maybe? Below a red hill.” Rows of ’em.” Her gut cramped at the memory of swinging bodies, dangling feet. Dozens of ’em.” She winced at the thought of them hitting the ground. Shapes still fizzed on the inside of her lids, like the glowing smears when you’ve looked at the sun. Felt like if she didn’t hold her skull together, it’d burst. Rikke heaved one hand up to grip her head. “There’s my girl!” Isern squatted beside her, necklace of runes and finger bones dangling, grinning that twisted grin that showed the hole in her teeth and offering no help at all. She pushed the spit-wet dowel out of her mouth with her tongue and croaked the one word she could think of. A slit of stabbing, sickening brightness.
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