Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
As I hoped, a Phaelix heads straight for our prison, already shouting unintelligible orders from a distance. Karl and the women scurry to their feet. When I stand, my stomach convulses. I double over, retching as spasms rack my body, but only bile comes out.
Sandy walks to the exit when the Phaelix opens the gate. She says something in his language while pointing at me. I’m too busy surviving the pain that’s like an axe splitting my cranium to care about the exchange. All she gets for her effort is a slap across the face that makes her head jerk to the side.
Wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth, she gives the Phaelix a cutting look before walking onto the deck. The rest of the slaves follow. Alexa takes my arm and helps me outside.
Strangely enough, I feel a little better after emptying my already-empty stomach, but my thoughts still don’t have any effect on the spiders. The last one disappears into the thick undergrowth by the time we reach the clearing. My knees wobble beneath my weight. If Alexa weren’t supporting me, I would’ve collapsed in a heap on the ground.
A bustling of activity follows as the Phaelix shout orders, and the slaves jump into action. Karl grabs a broom and sweeps the clearing while Irina piles twigs into Maeva’s trembling arms. Sandy is already building a fire. Alexa, Eucabeth, and I follow a footpath to a lake. A few Phaelix guard us, one walking in the front and another at the back. The bright, violet, tube-shaped worms that wiggle on the ground with gaping jaws and saliva dripping from their fangs make me grateful for my boots, but I worry about the other women who are barefoot.
It quickly becomes clear that the Phaelix are not only with us to make sure we don’t escape but also to keep the creepy-crawlies at bay and prevent them from stinging or eating us.
A few wooden buckets with rope handles hang on the branches of the trees that grow on the shore. Alexa and Eucabeth take them down and wade into the water.
The Phaelix who took the lead points at my boots and puts his face in mine while yelling something. I reel from the stink of his rotten breath.
Haven’t they invented the toothbrush here? Another pang hits me from nowhere when I think about the comfortable cleansing room in Aruan’s palace and the sweet-tasting paste that left my teeth clean and sparkly white.
The Phaelix raises his arm and makes a fist with his hand.
“Okay.” I duck and almost faint from the movement. “Fuck. Ouch. Calm down, dude. I get it. You want me to fetch water.”
He grabs a bucket and shoves it into my arms. I turn the bucket upside down, sit down on my improvised stool to remove my boots, and make a humongous effort not to keel over when I get up again. He stands over me, watching me with narrowed eyes as I roll Aruan’s pants up to my knees before taking the bucket and padding into the water.
Fuck. It’s freezing cold. The muddy sand pushes between my toes. Something slimy brushes against my calf. I yelp and jump to the side, only to almost pass out again.
“Stay in front of me so they can’t see you’re not working,” Alexa says through the side of her mouth. “I’ll fill your bucket.”
Fill my bucket? What she means becomes clear when I look at Eucabeth. She’s not scooping up water but digging with sticks in the sand. Every now and then, she throws down her stick and dunks her arms up to the elbows into the water before pulling out one of those giant sperm tadpoles that Betty had caught. It takes both Alexa and Eucabeth to lift the tadpole out of the water. One holds it around the middle and the other grabs its tail, preventing it from lashing out or biting them.
When the buckets are full, we drag them out of the water onto the shore. I’m dismayed to find my boots gone. Our guards must’ve confiscated them. Damn. I really liked those boots.
The buckets are too heavy for even two of us to carry, so the Phaelix take the buckets while we gather firewood on the way back.
When we return, the clearing is swept, and a huge cauldron of water is boiling over the fire. The Phaelix dump the buckets on the ground and shout more demands.
Moving closer to Sandy, I ask, “What are they saying?”
“They’re planning on feeding us,” she says with a concerned expression.
“That’s good, right?”
“Not necessarily,” she whispers. “They never do anything without a good reason. They’ve got something up their sleeves.”
“Why do they starve you?” I ask, suddenly furious, which also doesn’t help to diminish the pulsing pain in my skull.