Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Prologue: Bridge

✧ First Time Reader Check-in (FTR)

✧ Re-reader Check-in (RR)

847 A.G.M.

Dying would be easy, if not for the loved ones left behind.

Such was Edina Pyroline's first conscious thought as she returned from the brink of death. She drew a ragged breath, droplets of sweat clinging to her forehead and matted black hair.

The bridge. She'd seen the bridge again, with the endless sea of stars beneath it. The strands of light clutched in her hand.

Nola appeared in Edina's field of vision. Her rocking chair creaked in protest as she leaned forward. "You're awake," she said. Then, mumbling, "I hope you're lucid this time."

Edina pressed her hand against the stone wall of the chamber, its surface cold and calming to the touch of her burning fingertips. She opened her mouth and croaked, "Water." The weak, cracking voice sounded unfamiliar to her ears.

As if anticipating the request, Nola lifted Edina's head off the pillow and brought the glass to her mouth. Edina slurped greedily at the liquid, some of it spilling over the sides of her lips to dribble down her neck. The water disappeared but her thirst remained unquenched.

Nola put a hand to her forehead and Edina closed her eyes at the cool it brought to the fire of her skin. When Nola drew her hand away, her mouth had tightened into a grim line.

"I'm dying, aren't I?" Edina stated.

"Nonsense," Nola answered. "Just fever dreams getting to you." She dipped a cloth in a bowl of water and wrung it out before placing it on Edina's forehead.

"About the dreams," Edina whispered. "I think I saw ..."

What had she seen?

Nola shook her head, white hair coming loose to frame her face. "Don't bother, dear. No one remembers the delusions Fire Fever brings." She leaned back in her rocking chair. Dark circles under Nola's eyes told Edina just how many sleepless nights her old nurse had suffered to keep her sickbed vigil.

Edina groaned, head throbbing as she tried to move. Her limbs failed to comply, weakened from days and nights of restless sleep. Any food she'd managed to swallow past the wooden block of her tongue had resurfaced during coughing fits.

She burned.

"It's so hot," she muttered. Then, struck by a sudden idea, she released a blaze of flames through her hand on the wall. White fire exploded, heat flashing against her face. Edina yelped, cutting off the flow. New scorches marked the walls, bits of smoke curling upwards.

Nola cursed and grabbed her hands to thrust them into the pitcher of water. "No wielding, Dina!" she growled. "You'll make the Fever worse!"

"I thought it'd help me cool down," Edina responded, cheeks flushing. Oh, but the water felt so good sloshing against her hands.

"That's what you said the other five times!" Nola sighed in exasperation. "What in blazes am I supposed to do ... like a child again," she continued under her breath.

A knock at the door caused them both to start.

"That's Minerva," Edina told Nola.

Nola glanced at her, doubt clear on her face. "If it is, I'm not sure you're in a state for company."

Edina bit her lip, a flake of dead skin coming off. Here goes nothing. "Yes, but this could well be my last opportunity to see her. I'm sure I look like death warmed over, but an exception could be made."