Prompt: https://siobhanmuir.com/thursthreads-tying-tales-together-week-481/
“How I Learned I Wasn’t Afraid of Heights”
It wasn’t a question of whether or not I’d die that night. Between the poison, the curse, and the score of women with crossbows surrounding the lean-to, the only mysteries were when it’d happen and how.
I sure wished I’d had a way of getting Marilee out, though. She hadn’t asked to get stuck with me tracking her brother through the mountains. She hadn’t asked for him to hook up with a witch who cursed me when I slit his throat while she rode him. And she sure as hell hadn’t asked me to cook her dinner when I had a fire and she didn’t and the snow started to fall. How was I to know that the purple berries that grew on the flutterbushes here were poison when the red ones back home were an aphrodisiac?
What can I say? Marilee had one hell of an ass.
And one hell of a mind. She just smirked at me while I ate. Then she told me why I was the one feeling fluish and she wasn’t lifting her skirt.
Aw, hell. Every man dies sometime, right?
But then I heard the yelling outside. And I knew that Lane and her band wouldn’t care that Marilee wasn’t really with me, and that she’d watched me kill myself. Well, except for the actually dying part.
Of course, the thing that surprised me most the whole damn night was when Marilee sprouted wings.
And glowed.
Turned out that dying wasn’t on the agenda.
250 words
@drmag00
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