A knife of oblivion, p.30
A Knife of Oblivion, page 30
part #8 of The Kingmakers' War Series
The hangman unceremoniously lifted the noose off Neil’s neck and shoved him aside.
“You’re free to go,” the hangman said. “Get off the platform.”
“I don’t understand,” Neil said, desperate now. “I was the one who was arrested.”
“And she just confessed. We have our traitor. Now go.”
The Sworn marched me toward the steps, past the other prisoners with their mouths hanging open, their expressions a mixture of surprise and pity at what was about to happen to me.
I took the final steps alone and stopped before the dangling noose. The hangman looked me over with a little more respect now. And pity.
“Sorry, girlie,” he said as he lifted the rope.
The rope settled around my neck. I closed my eyes—a flutter—and took a deep breath. They hadn’t bound my hands yet, so the hangman stepped around to my front to do it. He turned over my right wrist and swore under his breath. His face turned white as ash, and he stepped back as if he were afraid to touch me.
“Why aren’t you wearing your colors? Why didn’t you say what you are?” he hissed. “I didn’t know! I could have killed you!”
The Sworn at the steps lifted their heads at his words. Their blank, covered faces glittered in the sun, and my stomach curled into a knot.
On my wrist, a raised red mark of two circles overlapping lay like a hideous birthmark. Like the body of a dead snake. Like a brand. A hateful, ugly, jarring scar of a tattoo.
You see, I had a secret. One I’d hidden for years from everyone, including my friends, even my beloved Neil. Only my grandmother had known the truth. Only she had seen the mark I always kept carefully hidden.
Only she had known I was one of the Chosen.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Scott, for being a father and husband beyond compare. Thank you for listening to my rants, talking through all my ideas with me, and offering your constructive criticism. You’re my best friend in the world, and I love you.
My beautiful, frustrating, amazing children. Thank you for finally sleeping well at night again. It means a lot to your father and me. Also, any random strings of numbers or letters that might appear in this book against all odds are curtesy of my daughter, who likes to help “type” while I am writing and editing.
My family (my parents, siblings, and wonderful in-laws), for helping so much with the kids so I can write. I love you guys.
C and K, for filling in those childcare gaps, and for being kind and lovely friends!
Dani Crabtree, for being an editing ninja of awesome.
The readers who hang out in my Facebook group, who cheer me on and help me remember why I write. Cody, Greta May, Lindsay, Jessica, Chip, Elena, Molly, Amanda, Sarah, Michelle, Angela, Rebecca, Danielle, and so many more. Keep commenting, y’all. It helps me, it really does. <3
All my readers, for their faithful support and infectious enthusiasm. It means so much to me that you all love these characters. I love you guys!
Kate Avery Ellison, A Knife of Oblivion
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“You’re free to go,” the hangman said. “Get off the platform.”
“I don’t understand,” Neil said, desperate now. “I was the one who was arrested.”
“And she just confessed. We have our traitor. Now go.”
The Sworn marched me toward the steps, past the other prisoners with their mouths hanging open, their expressions a mixture of surprise and pity at what was about to happen to me.
I took the final steps alone and stopped before the dangling noose. The hangman looked me over with a little more respect now. And pity.
“Sorry, girlie,” he said as he lifted the rope.
The rope settled around my neck. I closed my eyes—a flutter—and took a deep breath. They hadn’t bound my hands yet, so the hangman stepped around to my front to do it. He turned over my right wrist and swore under his breath. His face turned white as ash, and he stepped back as if he were afraid to touch me.
“Why aren’t you wearing your colors? Why didn’t you say what you are?” he hissed. “I didn’t know! I could have killed you!”
The Sworn at the steps lifted their heads at his words. Their blank, covered faces glittered in the sun, and my stomach curled into a knot.
On my wrist, a raised red mark of two circles overlapping lay like a hideous birthmark. Like the body of a dead snake. Like a brand. A hateful, ugly, jarring scar of a tattoo.
You see, I had a secret. One I’d hidden for years from everyone, including my friends, even my beloved Neil. Only my grandmother had known the truth. Only she had seen the mark I always kept carefully hidden.
Only she had known I was one of the Chosen.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Scott, for being a father and husband beyond compare. Thank you for listening to my rants, talking through all my ideas with me, and offering your constructive criticism. You’re my best friend in the world, and I love you.
My beautiful, frustrating, amazing children. Thank you for finally sleeping well at night again. It means a lot to your father and me. Also, any random strings of numbers or letters that might appear in this book against all odds are curtesy of my daughter, who likes to help “type” while I am writing and editing.
My family (my parents, siblings, and wonderful in-laws), for helping so much with the kids so I can write. I love you guys.
C and K, for filling in those childcare gaps, and for being kind and lovely friends!
Dani Crabtree, for being an editing ninja of awesome.
The readers who hang out in my Facebook group, who cheer me on and help me remember why I write. Cody, Greta May, Lindsay, Jessica, Chip, Elena, Molly, Amanda, Sarah, Michelle, Angela, Rebecca, Danielle, and so many more. Keep commenting, y’all. It helps me, it really does. <3
All my readers, for their faithful support and infectious enthusiasm. It means so much to me that you all love these characters. I love you guys!
Kate Avery Ellison, A Knife of Oblivion
