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)
“Fair point, given how you betrayed her family.” Either this caster is telling the truth or she has reclaimed her masterful skills in deception.
Wendeline hesitates. “May I ask, what use does the king have of her?”
I waffle over how much I wish to trust this one. But she has proven loyal to this exiled Islorian. I imagine she would do anything to help them, still. “King Malachi would have many uses for the sister of the exiled king who leads the army and seeks to reclaim the throne, and none of them would be good.” The things he would do to her … I stifle my shudder. “Which is why I have not reminded him of her, nor have I sought information around the castle.” Word would reach him, and then I would have to explain why I was asking.
And if he didn’t like or trust my answer …
I close my eyes against the excruciating memory of that invisible fire. Sometimes I can still smell my skin.
“Would you like me to ask around, see what I can find?” Wendeline proposes.
“That would be helpful, yes.”
“I do not know how effective it will be. Many of my connections have left Cirilea. Even the Goat’s Knoll sits abandoned, its owner gone. Such a vibrant city … such a marvelous sanctum …” Her sad eyes drift upward over the mural that adorns the ceiling—of a kingdom bathed in riches and honored by their gods. “It is an empty shell now.”
I laugh. “If you were to see the sanctum I spent the last three centuries contemplating in, you would not sneer at yours.”
“It is not the walls and splendor that makes it whole. It is the people and the faith you share it with.” She hesitates. “I can imagine yours has been quite lonely too.” She meets my eyes with a gaze that penetrates and haunts.
It leaves me cold.
“Find out what you can and do it discreetly. Come to the castle at last light and meet me by the main doors of the garden. Wait there until I arrive, and if anyone asks, you are answering my summons to help heal the roots.”
Her brow furrows. “But I do not have the necessary skills to—”
“Those fools do not know that,” I snap, standing.
She follows quickly, slipping out of the pew to make room for me, her bow deep. “I am honored by your visit, Your Highness.”
I pause, studying the little family again. “The guards have been out, looking for mortals without cuffs. I fear the results if they should be found, and I would not assume the sanctum will protect them.”
Her eyes flare with understanding—both of my words and my benevolence. “Yes, Your Highness.”
There. Perhaps that will earn me some trust with the conspiring caster.
“I will see you tonight.” I stroll down the aisle toward the double doors to the city beyond.
Soldor’s vacuous cave is much quieter when Malachi and I pass through the stone doors with six Saur’goths. They carry a large empty cage strapped to metal poles that he has not yet explained.
Dozens more warriors laze by the stream, the bones of half-devoured carcasses strewn around them. Of what creatures, I cannot tell. They scramble to their feet when they see us, barking greetings of “Sire!” and then dropping to a metal-plated knee.
“They are still arriving?” The opening into the rift allows a glimpse of afternoon light from above into the murky cavern.
“And they will continue to for many years before they are depleted. I have forged an army that can replenish itself twice over. No army of this realm shall defeat it.” Malachi passes them without so much as a glance, heading toward the other side. “Remain here. We will return soon.”
The warriors who arrived with us set the cage down.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Malachi collects my hand, squeezing it in a viselike grip as he leads us into a corner where even my eyes can’t cut through the darkness.
The air shifts and suddenly a dense fog materializes around us.
The hairs on my body rise as I realize what it is—the entrance to the Nulling that we arrived through, that he is now leading us back into. I reach for my affinities, but they are gone, my access cut off.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, my dread growing.
“Sometimes my subjects need guidance to emerge. We will wait until one senses me. It should not be too long.” Malachi is at ease in this place between realms, this hell without time or dimension.
I search the murkiness. I don’t know what’s more disorienting—that I am basically blind to the dangers around us or that I cannot defend myself once they come. This feels like falling from the sky and not knowing when or if I’ll ever reach the bottom.
Much like falling into the rift, I suppose.