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)
“As intended.” Zander leans against the rampart wall, his hands bracing him on either side, his steely gaze on the god who has claimed his throne.
Finally, Malachi strolls forward, throwing out his arms, palms up.
“He is asking for a parley?” Surprise laces Elisaf’s voice.
“No,” I snarl.
“Absolutely not,” Zander agrees. “Let us give him the answer his new pets understand.” Zander signals the soldiers manning the main catapult. A thump sounds, and a dozen Saur’goth heads sail through the air, raining down to hit the ground rolling.
Malachi answers with a wave to his side.
The Saur’goths march forward, setting the cages in front of him. They tug the cloth, removing the coverings.
The daaknar immediately attracts my attention, hunched over, its tattered wings waiting to fan out. Pitiful, almost, but I know better than to feel anything but hatred. It is likely the one Malachi used in the arena to slaughter those mortals who removed their cuffs.
“Who are they?” Zander asks, pointing at the two forms cowering in the other cages.
“Oh my god.” I grab hold of the rampart wall to catch myself as my head swirls with sudden dizziness.
No, it can’t be.
Here? In Islor?
“Those are my parents.”
77
Atticus
“Who are those people?” King Cheral asks as we watch the reflection of Lyndel in the pool. Tuella hovers nearby, her white eyes and glowing forehead drawing the unsettled gazes of the casters.
“I have never seen them before.” They clearly mean something to Romeria, who stands on the ramparts, her lethal crown perched on her head. She looks every bit the queen, but at this very moment, she appears seconds from collapsing.
“What are your orders, Commander?” Kazimir hovers, all semblance of my dear friend gone.
“Have the first wave of cavalry ride out to the line.” Something tells me this king has a plan of attack and it is coming soon.
And we won’t need a signal from the dragons to see it.
78
Romeria
They cower within the metal bars, filthy and gaunt.
My mother’s head swivels this way and that, taking in the monsters that surround her. She warned me of them years ago. She dedicated her life—and lost her mind, or so I thought—to fighting against this world, and while I have felt no love for her for many years, now I can’t help the raw pity and the grim understanding.
She may have been so wrong in the choices she made, but she knew.
She knew this world existed.
Eddie sits cross-legged, hunched over, as I’ve seen him so many times before—on curbs near the park, on corners of busy city streets. Oblivious, I always assumed. But it was me who was blind to what was coming.
I haven’t thought about them in so long, having dismissed my old life and all that came with it. But now here they are—in Islor—and all kinds of thoughts and emotions flood me.
I wonder, for the first time, who Eddie’s affinities were to.
And how would my mother have reacted had she known what I was?
She had no idea what her own husband was.
“Why would he bring them here?” I hear myself ask out loud. Through the Nulling, obviously. “He doesn’t need them.”
“He hides behind them like a coward,” Jarek answers.
He’s right. I’ve imagined myself launching my full power at Malachi before, but now that he is here, waiting, the bound cord of silver wavers, because I know I’ll kill my own parents while Sofie protects him from harm. They are human shields to him, nothing more.
But to me, they were once the people who washed my scraped knees and cradled me while I cried and tickled me until I screamed. They were loving and kind, before the underworld of caster magic and beasts claimed them. Now that I’ve seen it all come to life firsthand, the anger that simmered in my heart for years as I struggled on the streets gives way to immense sadness, like a dam breaking and the water surging through.
Here they are, serving like a pinnacle in Malachi’s grand scheme. How much more did we all suffer because of him plotting, with Sofie’s guiding hand?
I feel Zander’s gaze boring into my face. “What do we do?” I ask.
His jaw grows taut. He sees Malachi’s plan as clearly as I do. “Either you give him what he’s hoping for, or we wait for him to make his next move.”
“We wait.” There’s no hesitation.
I half expect him to argue, to point out that this is two people versus an entire realm.
With a nod, Zander slips his hand within mine. “Do not do anything that could risk the people in the cages!” he orders, his commanding voice carrying along the wall.
Long minutes stretch.
And then a bloodcurdling scream rises up into the air.
My mother holds her hands out in front of her as she shrieks, the pain in that sound twisting my stomach, threatening to unload the stew that sits within.