Sleepwalker

Chapter Thirty-One: The Last of the Valiant Villains

“I don’t understand. What do you speak of?” I asked. Confusion washed over me.

He laughed, his spit dotting my face. “When your mother left this letter and you with your father, she left one more thing, a pouch bursting with gold. If she has a thousand Tyans to give away, why, she must be one of the richest women in Caligeria!”

Despite the reopened split in my lip, I grinned at another piece of my mother. In fact, I relished the sting and the bead of blood forming. Varick goaded me along again, reminding me that searching for my mother at the moment should be a thought shoved to the recesses of my mind. This letter, my mind lingered on the letter. Why hadn’t Papa told me about a letter? I stopped. Dread filled me. “Papa can’t read. He never read it.”

“What are you chattering on about? Walk!” He knocked me forward. Varick kicked me when I tumbled to the ground. “You don’t seem to realize that you’ve made my clan the largest joke in Dunver. You’ve made an ugly mockery of me and all that I do.” He kneeled beside me and spat on my face, already wet with snow. “I should like to see you made into an ugly mockery as well.” He stroked my cheek with a faint smirk.

Anger burbled in my stomach. I struggled to right myself with my hands tied as such. With as much dignity as I could muster, I sloppily wiped the saliva from my face. My ribs were nowhere near broken, but ache pulsed through them. My entire abdomen would be one giant bruise in the morning. I focused not on this, but Armadillo’s safety. A twinge of pain lay in my shoulder once Varick pulled me up by it. “Wait, my shoul—”

He kicked me forward again. “Our temporary home is ahead. I’d get a good look at the outside though.” He added as a whisper in my ear, “It might be your last.”

Cliché as his remark was, I blanched. My eyes followed the swing of Dill’s head as Goliath walked into the small wooden house. My heart hammered, nearly bursting.

Dill’s glasses finally slipped off his face. When we approached them, Varick intended to smash them, but I had reached down and his foot crushed my hand instead.

Immediately, tears welled in my eyes. My fingers were red with cold and redder with the sharp stinging pain. They had already begun to swell. I still picked up Dill’s glasses and slipped them on my collar. I remained silent as Varick shoved me again.

“Welcome home, Genevieve.” He pulled my dagger out of the sheath and poked my back with it. He nudged me into a small room where Dill was laid across the ground. “I think I’ll have supper before the show,” He decided before he exited the small room.

Distinctly, I heard the small click of a lock outside. I wriggled my wrists, only chaffing them more. I cursed. My eyes flicked to Armadillo, still unconscious.

He moaned, but then remained silent, eyes closed; anxiety crept into my throat. I slipped the water skin off my waist and held the frigid water to his head where a swollen lump was forming. Unbuttoning his shirt, I pulled it off of him and laid it under his head.

Then, I waited. I pulled my knees up and rested my chin on them. I tried to think of something calming as fear threatened to overcome me. “Dill, you…you’re the first friend I’ve really had…and I couldn’t bear to lose you. And if they scar me beyond recognition, I do hope that you’ll still be a friend to me.” My body trembled. I bit both of my thumbnails to keep my teeth from chattering against one another. No thought could comfort me. I crawled over to Dill and cuddled into him, trying to keep him warm.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. Nothing could assuage my fears as I began to sob into his chest. In one final sniffle, I lifted my head up.