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)
“Good assumption.” I could kiss him right now. “How bad is it over there?” I jut my chin toward Ybaris.
“Most civilians made it a safe distance away before the flood of beasts emerged. There were unavoidable deaths, but not nearly as many as we anticipated.” Kienen peers up at Caindra, a silent acknowledgment of the vital part she played in the battle, sending the wyverns away. “Everyone is fatigued.”
“The casters are resting to recoup their affinities, as I plan to shortly.” Solange peers at the carnage around us. “It would be wise for you and your soldiers to find a tent and gather your strength.”
“My people are quite happy to feel the sun on their faces, in case this is the last chance to do so,” a deep voice announces from behind us.
I’m momentarily stupefied by Radomir’s new—or rather old—face as he joins us, even though I’d already seen it within the safety of Ulysede. Once a hideous creature of the night, the nymphs’ return has given the saplings a second chance at life, returning them to their former elven versions.
Still, I struggle to accept that this is the same person who strapped Annika to a boulder and tossed her over the bridge my first night here. They are two different people in every way. “But they are sleeping in shifts. Your Highness.” He bows to me and nods at Kienen, who matches it immediately. The two of them were our sworn enemies upon first meeting. Zander was prepared to kill them both and struggled with trusting them. They seem to have bonded over that similarity.
“And how many of your people have fucked off to the mountains already?” Jarek, ever the cynical one, asks.
Radomir pauses as if weighing his answer. “One that I know of,” he admits. “And I promise Your Highness that when this battle is over, I will personally hunt him down and deliver his punishment with my blade.”
“Don’t waste energy worrying about a few deserters. We have reinforcements on their way in.” I tell them about the two armies that just arrived. But that is not at the forefront of my mind. “Did you see the red wyvern that came out?”
“It was rather hard to miss,” Kienen says.
“Right. But did you see what was in its grasp? Tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
“We noticed.” Solange’s shrewd gaze darts to Agatha, who worries her thin lips. “And we cannot tell you that unless you wish to invite lies, Your Highness.”
Beside me, Jarek curses.
“So, you’re saying it’s possible that Neilina survived the fall into the rift.” Forget for a moment the token blade I drove through her throat.
“The queen did not survive the fall.” Solange nods toward her elder—a clear sign that this is her explanation to deliver.
“There are only two ways to remove a gold collar from the elementals’ necks. Either by Queen Neilina’s touch or by her death.” From within her satchel, Agatha produces a shimmering ring. “They all opened last evening.”
“You are telling us that the elementals are no longer collared.” Panic fills Jarek’s voice. “They can all summon the fates at any time.”
“As opposed to Ybaris’s queen forcing them to?” Solange retorts crisply.
“They are no longer collared,” Agatha confirms. “But I do not believe you should be worried about elementals rushing to meddle with the fates.”
I don’t care about uncollared elementals now. “Why would that wyvern carry Neilina’s body out of the rift?”
“A good question, indeed. We seem to understand little about what is and isn’t possible when the fates are scheming. That is becoming clearer with each new day.” Agatha’s wrinkled forehead lifts with a knowing stare. “I often wondered about that garish token encircling Queen Neilina’s neck, what purpose it might serve her. Or, more likely, what purpose it might serve the donor.”
Aoife. “The fates never give without taking.” And Aoife gave Neilina Princess Romeria—a deadly weapon to use against Islor.
Her nod is subtle. “We may have just witnessed the true cost of that summons so long ago. Queen Neilina undoubtedly fell into the rift, and surely, she did not survive. As for who came out, though … another version of Neilina, as we have a different version of Romeria? Perhaps. But I fear it is something far worse.”
My curse echoes Jarek’s from a moment ago as I grasp what the caster is suggesting. “Aoife has been here before.” And we know that Malachi wishes to come back. It’s the entire reason Sofie sent me to Islor in the first place. “Are you telling me we may have not one fate to worry about, but two?”
Agatha’s pinched expression confirms I’m not wrong in my suspicions. “I wish I could say otherwise.”
My stomach swirls with sudden nausea. “How are we supposed to fight against not just Malachi but Aoife?”
“We’ve done it once and obviously succeeded, though how remains a mystery.”