The Isis Knot Read Online Free Page A

were hiked up. The strangely sweet air created a tingling that started in her lungs and traveled a slow course through her limbs. Blinking into the hard, brilliant sunlight, she could just make out the fuzzy shapes of trees and shrubs. In the distance came a strange warble, followed by a similar sound from another direction. An animal’s cry?
    So she wasn’t dead…but this place wasn’t her home. This wasn’t where she’d been when the white light had snatched her. She could feel it in her bones, in the way her mind rejected her surroundings. And yet…she belonged here.
    This was the hallmark of a dream, right? Existing sluggishly in a strange landscape, your mind peppered with scattered thoughts and nonsensical musings and random images?
    Come on, Sera. Wake up . Then, when nothing happened, when the sun still beat down on her body, and the trees started to sharpen and she did not recognize their shape or color, and the unseen animals started making alien sounds: Oh God.
    Did she believe in God? In any gods? How could she not even know that about herself?
    Her torso crunched, knees coming to her chest, as a cold-hot wave of sensation sliced a river through her body. Fear—of who she was, of what had happened, of the unknown—rooted her in place.
    A rhythmic sound started in the distance. A low, creaking squeak squeak that came at regular intervals, growing louder as it slowly drew nearer. Not animal, not natural. Man-made.
    The huge, blank void that was her life cracked open a little, and through that brief opening she glimpsed a bit of her true self. She was not helpless. She was many things—not all of them good—but helpless had never been one of them.
    Though she couldn’t yet see the source of the squeaking sound, she did find a bush only a few feet away. Its thin branches were covered in waxy, sage-colored leaves, and she dragged herself toward it. Fingers digging into the dry, crumbling ground, knees pushing against the earth, she tried to hide. She curled into as tight a ball as the numbness in her body would allow, and hoped that whatever was making that sound would pass her by until her memory granted her mercy and finally spat out some answers.
    The pattern of the squeak never quickened, but its volume rose and rose. Getting closer. Other sounds came in underneath. The continual stamp and clop of something on the earth. Footsteps, maybe? Caused by lots of people?
    Though her vision was still blurry, she peeked through the scraggly branches in the direction of the sounds. There, in the center of a bright halo of sun, a long, rectangular shape lumbered toward her. It rolled on huge, uneven wheels, a fuzzy, indistinct horse pulling it across the earth.
    The presence of a horse and wagon rang all sorts of warning bells in her head. The loudest one told her: Be strong. Defend yourself.
    Sweeping a weak arm over the ground, her fingers found a jagged rock. It fit nicely in her palm.
    The hazy driver angled the wagon at Sera. He’d seen her.
    She was ready for him. Because she had to be.
    After a jangle of rope and metal, the brown horse halted, snuffling and stamping in place. Close enough for her to tell that its odor was awful. The squeak of the wheels stopped and the strange world filled with silence. The wagon was huge, looming over her. Dread and fear made her shiver.
    A faint male voice muttered something, and she curled the sharp rock into her chest, preparing. The man climbed down from the wagon seat. Her vision was far from clear, but she could make out the general shape of his narrow body against the dark of the wagon and horse. As he limped toward her, his image sharpened: an old man, a long white beard covering the lower half of his severely weathered face. He was barefoot, his clothes barely tatters. The drab, filthy shirt stuffed into brown pants would have fallen off his body if it weren’t for his suspenders.
    As the old man leaned over her, just out of reach, he used a thumb to tilt back