TWENTY
Chase was pretty sure death wasn't supposed to hurt this much. He'd remembered stories of paradise and angels, not pain. Unless he'd somehow found his way to hell. But that couldn't be right. What mortal sin had he committed to end up in eternal torment? Falling out of a tree didn't count. Perhaps accidentally shooting that queen had earned him such a punishment.
He was warm, too, which had to mean hell.
Chase sighed. Abraham would laugh himself sick. Though he was likely here somewhere, too, for killing kings was just as treasonous as shooting queens. Probably more so.
He forced his eyes open and stared up at...wooden boards, not stone. Well, the priests back home had never been able to describe hell. Maybe it was all wood, the better to burn sinners with.
But the only fir
