Bloodsticks - Chapter 15
When my mind finally puts all the pieces together — the flash of events which just took place and what I just risked on a hunch — my hands tremble.
This is the second award-winning work of Höbin Luckyfeller, and the second book in his Field Guide series. The script is hot and fresh and we also have a new cover for the book!
When Höbin is contracted to research the popular game of chance, he quickly learns the truth surrounding its history is anything but. Circumstances unfold faster than he can anticipate, pulling Höbin from his assignment and thrusting him into the shadows of intrigue, magic…and murder.
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Chapter 15 — The Final Pieces
The Whipped Mule explodes in shouts and barked orders from Iyl-Maddok and Iyl-Rayne. Patrons are questioned before leaving The Whipped Mule.
Gypsy Sentries immediately round up Keeley’s employees before they can get to the exit and grab their own port keys. Thrown to the floor, tied, and restrained, each is questioned. Some resistors are quickly beaten and rendered unconscious by the Sentries. Aswin and Culver are located and taken to the market square. They are placed in the pillory until their trial. I almost feel sorry for them.
Blood continues to drip down my neck, but I don’t care. I can’t help but breathe a deep sigh of relief. The pain from the cut under my chin reminds me I’m still alive. My heart pounds out the beat of gratitude. Old, calloused fingers run over my skull. Thanks to Tgii, the seam remains securely in my flesh, unable to be pried away. When my mind finally puts all the pieces together — the flash of events which just took place and what I just risked on a hunch — my hands tremble.
I’m alive! Hard to imagine I almost died…but the bluff paid off. Keeley got exposed. I’ve set a serious wrong straight.
Iyl-Tandril sits across from me. Two Sentries stand guard behind him, watching the door. The Gypsy leader is still breathing hard — and I can only imagine how frustrated he must feel…how angry. The man who murdered his son just escaped his grasp.
His eyes move slowly under his thick brows, studying every fidgeting motion I make.