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)
“You need healing.”
“Later.” She pulls herself up off the floor, grimacing in pain. “Right now, we must get the scribes and Allegra out of here before your beloved burns down every cottage out there in his impatience to know you are safe.” Solange nods to the two guards still holding the limp casters. “Take them to the port. Three Shadows will transport them to Argon, where they can be healed.” But the mask of worry on her face as she regards her counterpart is troubling.
“Master Shadow,” Fatima calls out. One glance at her shows her eyes back to their plain green.
I shield myself in an instant and turn to face the guild head-on, letting them see my silver eyes.
But the Masters remain where they are, none in a hurry to attack.
“Go, now!” Solange barks, and the guards leave.
“Your Highness,” the wispy-haired caster who watched me curiously before, calls out. “They will need special healing for their injuries. I can provide that, if you will allow it.”
“Thank you, Master Healer Brigitta.” Solange’s eyes flicker to me, giving an almost indistinguishable nod. The healer is telling the truth. “You will accompany me to Argon. And if the three Islorians with us sense that your goal is not genuine, they will tear your spine from your body.”
The healer’s face pales.
I stifle the urge to shake my head at Solange’s words—only Abarrane would do that—as I bend down and gingerly slip off the gold band from the Prime’s finger. The Ring of Minerva is as unremarkable as Agatha suggested. No stones, no gleam, nothing to suggest it’s the most prized trophy on this island of caster power. I tuck it into my pocket for safekeeping.
Solange’s attention swings to a cowering Cahill, pressed against the wall. Her jaw sets with determination.
“He’s coming to Ulysede with us.” I step in front of him, forming a barrier.
“Male elementals are dangerous,” she warns.
“You’ve been saying the same about key casters for two thousand years.”
“And look what has happened.” But the corner of her mouth curves in a smile. With her bloodied face, it looks sinister.
Despite towering over me, Cahill somehow shrinks.
“We don’t kill people for being born a certain way. Not anymore. That must change.”
After a pause, she offers a dip of her head. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
“Come on, Cahill. Agatha is waiting for you.”
“Excuse me, Your Highness?” His voice is low but timid. “Do you think I might need the necklace Master Scribe gave me?”
The one she must have used to hide his elemental caster affinities, just as Sofie hid mine from me and everyone else with that ring.
“He’s only bound within Nyos,” another caster, one with downcast lips and eyes too close to each other, confirms. “Once he leaves Mordain, he will have access to his affinities.”
“Right.” I fish through the Prime’s skirt pocket like a corpse-robbing thief until my finger catches the chain. I hand it to him.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” His fingers fumble with the clasp to replace it around his neck. He has such rich, innocent eyes.
They would have killed him the moment I left here.
“Let’s go.” I hesitate at the door. “I hope that the next time we cross paths, you’ll see me as the ally that I am.” Barro’s body slumps against the table, his blood leaking into the grain. Solange was right. We could not have left him alive. I know his kind. He would have claimed the role of Prime, ring or not.
“My advisors insisted I kill the entire guild council and start fresh with casters I can rely on to help fight this war, but I refused because I think you all know the right path. Don’t make me regret that choice.” I let my words hang as we leave the guild tower.
The dungeons below the towers are not quite as bleak as the ones in Cirilea, but they’re far smaller and they are packed. “There are so many of them.” I scan the terrified faces. A stench of cold sweat lingers in the air.
“And Lorel would have burned every last one.” Raising her voice, Solange announces, “Queen Romeria, the new ruler of Ybaris, has come to free you.” She waves at the guard to unlock the doors.
Cautious scribes eye me as the doors swing open, no one rushing to move.
“You can stay here if you’d like, but I can’t guarantee your safety. If you come with me to Ulysede, you’ll have warm beds and food and an entire library to study. Your Master Scribe is there waiting.”
A low murmur erupts.
A young girl of no more than fifteen stares at me through bright blue eyes.
“Do you know where the nymph scripture stone is?” I ask.
“You mean the lines on the wall? Yes, Your Highness.” She caps her words off with a curtsy.
I smile. “Perfect. Take me to it.”