Blood Solstice: Part Three In The Tale Of Lunarmorte - Plot & Excerpts
Marion had told Caia that Marita was most probably staying at this inn, a condemned building in a small village in Central Scotland. Take me there, she whispered to her energy, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing on every ounce of magik that belonged to her. The travel seemed to take forever, moving through a black tunnel at warp speed, flashes of coloured lights exploding in her eyes as a raw sickening pain bubbled under every inch of her skin. With a thud, she collapsed on gritty ground, pebbles piercing her skin as she heaved forward, the contents of her stomach decorating what looked like a short driveway. She shuddered and convulsed, her flesh and insides so raw it was as if a butcher had taken a meat hammer to her. When at last she stilled, lying prone on the stoned driveway, Caia looked up through her hair to see a gothic looking inn perched on top of a small hill. Breathing deeply, she pulled herself to her feet, swaying a little, and gave her surroundings a fleeting look. A road ran up the side of the inn leading to a residential area and below the hill was what appeared to be a main road with another road branching off of it leading to the houses that were stacked behind a tall wooden fence some yards down from the inn itself.
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