Wicked Hunt

Chapter Thirteen, Part I

Victoria: Gritty Encounters 

"Should we try to wake her again?" Jillian's voice drifted through the air. "It's been three days."

"No," Gemma snapped. "We mustn't upset the balance."

Groggily, Victoria's eyelids flitted open. Light flooded into the crack in the blackness. It seared her eyes, making them water. She receded back into the cool dark, nursing her burning irises.

"Are you sure about that?" Jillian pressed. Her voice was sharp, no doubt due to some bitter argument between herself and her aunt. Slowly, Victoria tried to open her eyes again.

"Are you going to question me about this again?" Gemma hissed like a snarling serpent. Spit landed on Victoria's cheeks, and her fingers twitched to move to wipe the warm droplets away.

"I didn't-" Jillian tried, but her voice was drowned out as Lorik's deep one erupted from somewhere to Victoria's left.

"She's waking up!"

Victoria felt her mother's familiar rough hand brushing her cheek. "Victoria," she whispered. "Are you there?"

"M...moth..er?" Victoria asked as she forced her eyelids to crack again. All she saw was blinding light. Her eyes wanted to retreat, pull the lids back closed and hide behind them, but she needed to open them. Needed to see.

"I'm here," Gemma promised. "I'm right here."

Biting her lower lip in preparation for the pain, Victoria flung her eyelids open and cried out as the light stabbed at her eyes.

"Blow the candles out!" Gemma shouted. Frenzied scuffling could be heard and an obnoxious thud as someone banged into a table. Then, the bright light faded, replaced by cool grey tones. Gemma's aged face swam up before her, bathed in the somber glow of the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

"Mother," Victoria croaked. She reached a hand out to touch Gemma's face, but her arm felt like it was made of lead. Her elbow sagged as her arm flopped back onto the bed from the weight.

"Praise the wolf and the gods." Gemma covered her hand with her wrinkled fingers.

Finally allowing herself to swallow, Victoria found that her throat was scratchy and swollen. She let out a dry cough.

"W...w..." she struggled to speak.

"Water?" Jillian suggested as she perched on the edge of the bed.

Victoria shook her head. "W..."

"She needs water!" Gemma spun her head around, milky eyes darting wildly, but Victoria's fingers shot out, and she gripped her mother's hand. She shook her head.

"W..."

"She needs wine." Lorik emerged from behind Gemma's head, a gilded goblet in his hand. He thrust it into Victoria's face. She released her mother's fingers and gripped the cup with shaking hands. The weight in them was slowly subsiding, and she was able to tip the drink back and let the cold, bitter liquid soothe her throat. Only after she'd drained the entire cup did she lower it and look around at the three concerned faces watching her.

"What..." Victoria hiccupped. "What happened?"

Gemma took the cup from her and impatiently waved it around in the direction of Lorik. He pursed his lips but stepped forward to grab the goblet. Carefully, he placed it on the table. When he looked up and met Victoria's gaze, she quickly turned back to Gemma, realizing she had been staring. Ignoring the blush that was creeping up her throat, she narrowed her eyes back on her mother.