Effie did not feel too good.
But, at least, she was free.
A dreadful plague was devouring her from within, and a river of black blood was flowing from the brutal wounds delivered to her by Azarax. Effie felt like she was at the end of her rope.
But the rope that had bound her hands was now cut, and she managed to escape.
Azarax had made a mistake when he left his dagger in her body. At first, Effie entertained the thought of turning its blade against him — the mighty King of Kings was distracted, after all, and had turned his back to her. One strike, and the Nightmare would be over…
Her mind was dim, and her thoughts moved slowly, but even in that foggy state, her sharp survival instinct told her that trying to kill Azarax was a fool's errand. She would never manage to bring him down — not in one strike, and not in her current state.
Maybe when the plague had ravaged him more thoroughly, but not now.
So, Effie chose to escape instead.
