“There you are,” Émilie said.
While those words were whispered, the oscillation in her voice coincided with spikes of pain. He imagined that someone was driving nails straight into his skull.
“Where—” Marc asked.
The tearing in his throat stopped him cold. It reminded him of calling drills for too long. But the taste of iron in his mouth hinted there was another cause.
“Oh, you must want some water,” Émilie said.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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