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)
“How?”
“In various ways.”
I sigh heavily. I don’t have time to peel through layers of Lucretia’s ambiguity. I also can’t waste time shuttling this conniving sylx back to Ulysede’s library. Zander and the others will reach the port soon. Besides, knowing her, she’ll vanish and follow me back to Argon, anyway. “Fine.” I move for the door. “But keep this form.”
“It is the one I favor.”
“And no more vanishing.” I raise a finger in warning. “And do not antagonize Jarek.”
“I enjoy our friendly banter, though.” She smiles wistfully.
That’s what she calls friendly banter? He genuinely wants to kill her. “Stay out of his head. And his dreams.” I know they have something to do with me.
Her pretty face furrows with confusion. “But those are a reward to your most valued advisor. I give him that which he desires most but cannot have.”
“That’s not … what he wants.” I stumble over the denial. I hope that is not what Jarek wants, but deep down, I fear there may be truth to her words. Regardless, I wish only happiness for him. As much happiness as I have with Zander. “Do not mess with his head anymore or I will relegate you back to your crypt like your last masters did.” I have no idea how to do that, but my threat seems to have the desired effect.
Lucretia sulks as I channel Aminadav into the lock, picking it from the inside. It opens with a jarring sound.
The lanky guard on the other side jumps back, a dazed look on his face. “Your Highness!” he exclaims. “But … how did—”
“Long story. A group is arriving from Mordain with wounded casters who need tending. Take me to the port.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” He quickly falls back into obedient stiff-guard mode, leading us out.
“How many there are?” I squint into the darkness. “I can’t tell.”
“It is difficult, Your Highness. Especially with Shadows on board,” says the guard closest to me, seemingly in charge. I heard someone call him Yardley. “It moves quickly, though. By the grace of Vin’nyla, I would imagine.”
I huddle in my jacket, the cool night wind creating whips out of my braids. When I insisted on meeting the boat at the docks, Yardley barked orders and suddenly, twenty-five guards were marching down the path with me, the sound of their metal armor daunting.
“I count twelve standing and two wrapped in blankets, lying on the floor, Your Highness,” Lucretia purrs. Her unusual eyes have earned countless wary looks from guards and servants alike as we marched through Argon, but I’m sure the sylx enjoys the attention. “Seven Shadows and five others.”
One must be the Master Healer. Who are the others?
Lanterns mark the slip for the boat as it slides into position, dockhands rushing for ropes to tie it in place.
“Stay here!” I order, my impatience winning out. I take off running, my feet scattering loose pebbles.
A Shadow leaps out onto the dock and collides with me where wood meets rock. I know it’s Zander even before he yanks off his mask and kisses me.
“That wait was agonizing. My mind conjured a dozen terrible scenarios,” he whispers.
“I was ready to drown His Highness in the channel to put him out of his misery,” Abarrane confirms.
He ignores her, roping his arms around me. “You did not listen to a word I said at the gate.”
“I listened. I just didn’t agree with you.” I smile. “You were right. We needed all of Mordain allied with us, not just the scribes. This was our only shot, so I took it.”
He leans down to press his forehead against mine. “We heard what happened. Are you okay?”
Am I okay with having more blood on my hands? “Lorel would have killed Solange. I had no other choice.” But never in a thousand years could I have thought I would one day rationalize taking a life so easily. That person I left behind in New York is so far gone. I could never return to her—even if I wanted to.
Jarek leaps out of the boat with ease, having shed his mask. “She insisted we bring all these witches with us.” He hauls a caster out by her cloak, earning her yelp of surprise. The others avoid his reach, clambering out on their own.
“Master Healer Brigitta is the best one to try to undo what Lorel has done, but she cannot do it on her own and our elementals are at the rift.” Solange strolls forward, her bloodstained expression hard. The Shadows follow her with Allegra and Zaleria in their hands, bundled and deathly still. The casters trail, a somber, quiet line.
I fall into step next to the Master Healer, Zander at my side. “They can be healed, though, right?”
“If there is hope, it must be done now.” But her eyes are laden with doubt.
27
Sofie
My fingertip traces the tines of my fork as I study the scene in the vacuous dining hall before me. It’s almost comical, playing out like a skit written and rehearsed. A band strums an upbeat tune as servants shuttle platters of food for greedy lords and ladies, and others keep their mugs of ale and wine brimming. Everyone wears smiles.