My heart pounded as I thrust with all my strength, piercing the soft meat of his abdomen.

He stared down at me, eyes wide. His jaw opened in a soundless scream, and ropes of red-tinged drool stretched from his gaping mouth and plopped onto my cheek.

I pushed harder on the blade with both hands, my fingers slipping through wetness as I carved a line toward his chest.

A choking sound gurgled from his throat. His body spasmed, sinking onto the dagger before collapsing on top of me.

I strained to hear his breath, but my heart beat too loud, banging in my ears. And the trembling… By the grace of almighty God, I couldn’t stop shaking.

But he didn’t move.

His stillness avowed his departure from this world. I’d plunged a blade into his belly and sent his soul to hell. I couldn’t bring it back. Nor did I want to.

Relief rode in on waves of exhaustion and horror. My mind lagged, struggling to process, as my stomach retched in great dry heaves.

By sheer will, I managed to push the body off me. It landed in a lifeless heap of limbs, breeches unbuttoned at the waist. The protrusion of male flesh flopped to the side like limp seaweed.

The periwig hung off-center, revealing the skull beneath. Bald, not gray.

With a shudder, I went to work on the rope around my wrists. Endless minutes flogged me as I twisted one hand free, ripping skin in the process. The bounds unraveled, and I shoved knots of crusty hair from my face, scouring the trees for the horses.

My eyes refused to adjust in the dark, and the forest blurred around me. My insides didn’t feel right. It was the coldness, the shivering, the constant twitching.

My shoulders jerked in tight convulsions. Spasms attacked my eyelids, throbbing swollen skin. My fingers didn’t work, the joints kinked from prolonged clenching.

An attempt to stand sent me spinning, stumbling, and plummeting to my knees. I rose again and forced my numb feet over the ground, propelled by a single imperative.

Save my father.

If I reached a horse, I could guide it back to the beach and find Charles Vane.

Every step shifted the gown against my backside, blazing agony across my skin. I cried out and reached blindly for something to grab onto. My hands grappled air, and I turned my ankle on a rock. The startling pain sent me wheeling back to the ground.

I sobbed in frustration and sprung back to my feet, pushing my body beyond its abilities. Everything hurt, and the uncontrollable trembling threatened to suck the last of my strength.

I twitched forward, centering my mind on each dragging step.

Twitch. Step. Twitch. Step.

Every branch in my path was a test of coordination, every uneven bump beneath my feet a challenge to overcome. My balance wavered, teetering on the edge between awareness and oblivion.