Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
“Talent.” Humor laces his voice, but it falls quickly. “We have to climb three stories.”
I peer up into the dark void. The dense fog remains, hanging like a veil between us and the outside world. “To where?”
“It is best if you see for yourself. Climb, Annika.”
Despite my better judgment, I do as ordered, my focus on one rung at a time and nothing else. Certainly not the plummeting fall I sense below us.
And not on Tyree moving with me, his chest at my back.
“So this mortal …”
“She is the reason we are here now. You will meet her soon enough.”
“Can’t wait.”
He reaches up, his fingers crowding mine.
I swat his hand away.
And my foot slips off the rung.
Tyree is quick, his muscles tensing to keep us on. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he whispers in my ear. “Keep going.”
“Why did I agree to this?” I grumble, continuing on.
“Because deep down, you know you can trust me.” His face is beside mine. “And because I came back for you.”
“I’m sure there is a self-serving reason. If you cost me this throne that you insist I do not want, I will never forgive you.”
“I thought you already would never forgive me,” he mocks, his voice teasing. It’s followed by a “shhh” as we pass a darkened window and continue up.
“For what it’s worth, I argued with my mother that we would be better off holding you prisoner,” he whispers after a moment, suddenly serious.
“After slaughtering the rest of my family and stealing my throne. Am I supposed to thank you for that?” I resist the urge to elbow him. He could fall, and then where would I be? “You have never once apologized for all that you’ve done to me. And I will bet you don’t even know the half of it. Were you aware one of your saplings bound me with merth and tossed me into the river, tied to a boulder?”
“I was not,” Tyree says after a pause. “What did he look like?”
“A sapling. They all look the same. Grotesque.” I cringe at the memory of his face hovering over me. “Romeria, of all people, is the one who rescued me.” I think back to that night. “And then she saved me again, from the daaknar.”
“Twice in one night.”
“I would certainly be dead otherwise.”
He’s quiet for a moment while we climb. “What do you know of Romeria—the version after that night?”
“She was not the same. Atticus believed she was not even the same person.” A tightly held secret among my brothers that I was warned not to speak of. I doubt it matters anymore.
“And you? What did you believe?”
“I despised the version before the attack. The one after?” I smile as I remember our garden walks and her genuine naivete—that I was sure was an act at first. But there was something truly different about her. “I grew quite fond of her.”
“You forgave her for what she was a part—”
Tyree loses his footing.
I gasp as he scrambles to regain purchase, feeling the tug on the moss ladder as he grabs hold and returns to his position. “Let’s focus on getting to the top without dying for now.” His breathing is a touch ragged.
We continue the rest of the way in silence until the ladder ends at the top.
I pull myself over the ledge, Tyree following closely after.
“The temple is built directly into the mountain. This is the top of it.”
I huddle in Tyree’s cloak but it does little good against the wind cutting through. And yet, naked candles burn bright from their crooks on the wall. “What happens here?”
“According to Destry, the mortal, it is where the conjurers seek guidance from the stars.” He points upward, bringing my attention to the ring of white stone pillars looming. How high they reach, I can’t tell. They vanish into the mist. “And that is the temple crown.”
I reach out to touch the odd white stone that makes up the cap of this mountain, illuminated in the candlelight. “Is there no one here?”
“No one who will bother us at this late hour,” Tyree answers cryptically, setting a hand on the small of my back to guide me forward, into the main area.
A small, round tarn sits in the center of the pillars, carved into the white stone, its glacial blue water shimmering as if lit from within.
But it’s the form who floats under the surface in the middle that turns my blood cold. “Who is that?”
“That is the last kal’ana to arrive in Udrel.” Tyree meets my horrified stare.
We edge in closer to get a better look at the naked skeletal body, the tissue and fat eaten away. Her skin is like soaked paper draped over bones, and wisps around her skull are all that remain of her hair. Chains bind her ankles and wrists to the stone, her arms and legs stretched out like a starfish.