Read Online Fantasyland 03 Fantastical by Kristen Ashley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kristen Ashley
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her.”
“Then we share something because I’m getting
sick of you pretending you aren’t her.”
I continued glaring at him and he withstood
it.
Then I swung back to the hide, hefted it up
and started beating at it again, hard, all the while muttering to
myself, “I lived a good life. I was nice. If I saw someone drop a
dollar, I’d pick it up and give it to them. If a beggar looked like
a real, genuine, honest to God beggar, I’d give them change. If
strangers walked by me and caught my eye, I’d smile and say hello.
If my friends did stupid shit with guys, I kept my mouth shut and
then let them cry on my shoulder when that stupid shit bit them in
the ass at the same time I kept the mojitos flowing. Okay, so I
didn’t tell on Jenny Linklater when I saw her cheating on that test
in sixth grade but I didn’t cheat. I’ve never cheated. I’ve never done anything wrong enough to land me in
this crazy, freaking world with a lunatic hot guy.
What did I do to deserve this?”
Salem whinnied and I didn’t know what that
meant.
I looked at him. “I don’t know what you mean
but the way you said it, I agree.”
He jerked his snout up.
“Damn straight,” I muttered, gathered the
hide to me and stomped through the loose stone back to the opening
under the eyes of a glowering Noctorno and I did it only wincing a
little at how much the stone hurt my feet.
When I got to my destination, I slapped the
hides open and then for good measure I slapped them shut behind me
thinking stupidly, Take that, asshole.
He wouldn’t care if I slapped the hide
closed but it made me feel better.
* * * * *
Hours later, the hides opened and Noctorno
strode in.
I looked up from my sweeping and gave him a
good glare.
Then I kept right on sweeping.
“Gods, what the bloody hell?” he muttered
irately.
I ignored him and limped through my
sweeping.
“Cora,” he called.
I kept limping through my sweeping, seeing,
belatedly, the error of my ways as I went about my business of the
day.
I had, very stupidly, gathered all the bones
in the dirty bowl, carried them to the mouth of the cave and tossed
them as far away as I could throw them. I had also beat out the
sheepskins as well as the cowhide. I had also trudged (again)
through the sharp stone of the main cave, back and forth (four
times), to replenish the wood supply. This meant my feet were raw
on the bottoms but I was not, not, not going to be bored out
of my mind like yesterday nor give myself the headspace to fret
about my calamitous circumstances.
No I was not.
I didn’t have any lemons to make lemonade
but I was going to damn well do what I could with no lemons and no
nothing.
So, when I saw the dried grass was filled
with dead insects (ick), yes, you guessed it, I trudged right back
through the cave (knowing big guy and his sweet horse watched me)
back and forth, back and forth, yanking fresh, long blades of grass
that grew close to the mouth of the cave and piling them up outside
the antechamber we slept in. Then I inspected the entirety of the
cave and its cave chambers, found a long stick and enough pieces of
twig to build my own freaking broom, which I did, braiding the
bristles at the top with a blade of grass and attaching it to the
stick with more blades (this, by the way, was tedious and took a
long time but, by God, I did it) and now I was sweeping out the
old, dry, dead insect-ridden grass (as well as whatever else my
admittedly not very great broom could pick up) even though my feet
were killing me.
“Cora,” he repeated when I didn’t
answer.
“Right here,” I replied.
“Stop.”
“No, I’m almost done.”
“I said, stop.”
“No,” I kept sweeping the big pile toward
the pelt curtain, “just a bit –” The broom was suddenly yanked
clean out of my hands and my head snapped up to see Noctorno had
it. “What are you –? Oof! ”
Clatter went the broom as up I went on his
shoulder again.
“Put me down!” I beat at his back with
“Then we share something because I’m getting
sick of you pretending you aren’t her.”
I continued glaring at him and he withstood
it.
Then I swung back to the hide, hefted it up
and started beating at it again, hard, all the while muttering to
myself, “I lived a good life. I was nice. If I saw someone drop a
dollar, I’d pick it up and give it to them. If a beggar looked like
a real, genuine, honest to God beggar, I’d give them change. If
strangers walked by me and caught my eye, I’d smile and say hello.
If my friends did stupid shit with guys, I kept my mouth shut and
then let them cry on my shoulder when that stupid shit bit them in
the ass at the same time I kept the mojitos flowing. Okay, so I
didn’t tell on Jenny Linklater when I saw her cheating on that test
in sixth grade but I didn’t cheat. I’ve never cheated. I’ve never done anything wrong enough to land me in
this crazy, freaking world with a lunatic hot guy.
What did I do to deserve this?”
Salem whinnied and I didn’t know what that
meant.
I looked at him. “I don’t know what you mean
but the way you said it, I agree.”
He jerked his snout up.
“Damn straight,” I muttered, gathered the
hide to me and stomped through the loose stone back to the opening
under the eyes of a glowering Noctorno and I did it only wincing a
little at how much the stone hurt my feet.
When I got to my destination, I slapped the
hides open and then for good measure I slapped them shut behind me
thinking stupidly, Take that, asshole.
He wouldn’t care if I slapped the hide
closed but it made me feel better.
* * * * *
Hours later, the hides opened and Noctorno
strode in.
I looked up from my sweeping and gave him a
good glare.
Then I kept right on sweeping.
“Gods, what the bloody hell?” he muttered
irately.
I ignored him and limped through my
sweeping.
“Cora,” he called.
I kept limping through my sweeping, seeing,
belatedly, the error of my ways as I went about my business of the
day.
I had, very stupidly, gathered all the bones
in the dirty bowl, carried them to the mouth of the cave and tossed
them as far away as I could throw them. I had also beat out the
sheepskins as well as the cowhide. I had also trudged (again)
through the sharp stone of the main cave, back and forth (four
times), to replenish the wood supply. This meant my feet were raw
on the bottoms but I was not, not, not going to be bored out
of my mind like yesterday nor give myself the headspace to fret
about my calamitous circumstances.
No I was not.
I didn’t have any lemons to make lemonade
but I was going to damn well do what I could with no lemons and no
nothing.
So, when I saw the dried grass was filled
with dead insects (ick), yes, you guessed it, I trudged right back
through the cave (knowing big guy and his sweet horse watched me)
back and forth, back and forth, yanking fresh, long blades of grass
that grew close to the mouth of the cave and piling them up outside
the antechamber we slept in. Then I inspected the entirety of the
cave and its cave chambers, found a long stick and enough pieces of
twig to build my own freaking broom, which I did, braiding the
bristles at the top with a blade of grass and attaching it to the
stick with more blades (this, by the way, was tedious and took a
long time but, by God, I did it) and now I was sweeping out the
old, dry, dead insect-ridden grass (as well as whatever else my
admittedly not very great broom could pick up) even though my feet
were killing me.
“Cora,” he repeated when I didn’t
answer.
“Right here,” I replied.
“Stop.”
“No, I’m almost done.”
“I said, stop.”
“No,” I kept sweeping the big pile toward
the pelt curtain, “just a bit –” The broom was suddenly yanked
clean out of my hands and my head snapped up to see Noctorno had
it. “What are you –? Oof! ”
Clatter went the broom as up I went on his
shoulder again.
“Put me down!” I beat at his back with
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