Chapter 57

• Waking was difficult.
• Myriella surfaced as though from the bottom of a deep, dark pool where the water pressed against her chest and made it hard to breathe. The sleeping draught the healer had given her left a bitter taste in her mouth and a dull emptiness humming inside her head.
• The first thing she became aware of was the throbbing ache in her right wrist, tightly wrapped in bandages and smelling of some sharp, camphor-based salve. Her arm rested on a mound of soft cloth.