Karigan lay in bed clutching the sheets. The dagger that stabbed her was coated in poison and that poison now floated through her veins. The menders had given her little hope to live. Now, lying between life and death, she could practically feel Salvistar’s breath on her as he waited to take her to the other world.
“Go away, you stupid horse,” she mumbled.
“Karigan G’handleon, your time hasn’t come yet,” a voice said in her head. A shadow fell over her, “but first, you have to die.” The shadow of Westrion touched her. She struggled to breathe as she felt her body go cold.
Sitting at his silent vigil, Alton was the first to notice. “Karigan! Someone help!” he yelled. Responding to the plea for help, a mender rushed in, and saw that his patient was dying.
“I’m sorry for the pain, but first you must die before you can be reborn, Rider,” Westrion said in her head before the pressure increased. Karigan choked on her last breath and then surrendered to the darkness.
“Karigan!” Alton shouted. He rushed to the side of the bed. The grim faced mender checked her pulse and then faced Alton.
“She’s gone,” he said. Alton had a look of shock. The mender left Alton alone as he went into the hallway to send some one with a summons for the king. Alton gazed at Karigan’s body knowing that this would destroy the king.
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