Seven…
I heard no more. At that very moment, before another word could be uttered by any member of the company who stood inside the great hall, unaware of my presence, a stabbing pain erupted inside me head. It felt as if some invisible entity was driving hundreds of fine, sharp pointed pins into my skull from the outside and as if my brain was expanding at a colossal rate without there being any room for it to do so from within. It was so sudden and intense, so strong, that I cried out in pain and crumpled to the floor clutching my head in desperation as hot tears streamed down my dirty face.
YOU ARE READING
The Witch of Camelot
FantasyAt five years old Nimue moved to Camelot to live with her uncle, the kings own adviser, Merlin Ambrousius. Four years later another equally mysterious young person arrives in the city and takes up residence with Nim and her uncle. His name is Arthur...
