Total pages in book: 201
Estimated words: 191006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 955(@200wpm)___ 764(@250wpm)___ 637(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 955(@200wpm)___ 764(@250wpm)___ 637(@300wpm)
With help from Radomir and Kienen, we drag the injured soldiers up. Elisaf and Zorya each haul one onto their horse, keeping blades at their necks.
Kienen quietly climbs back into his saddle.
“That was you?” I point to the pit, though it’s not really a question.
He nods.
“Seems your pocket isn’t as small as Abarrane thought.”
“That remains to be seen.” With a sly smile, Abarrane takes off at a gallop.
He smirks. “I recognized that one’s helm—” He nods to Braylon. “He is the elven who was there to collect the vials that day.”
“If you had suggested that earlier, I never would have believed you.”
“I had no idea, and Tyree never told me.” He shrugs. “Clearly, he was working against his father, but to what end beyond shuttling poison, I could not tell you.”
“My guess would be power,” Radomir offers. “Lord Telor has been keeper of Lyndel and the rift’s guard for centuries and showed no signs of stepping down. What better way to get rid of your father than to blame it on the current king’s enemy?”
“And you, with all of your connections and web of information, were truly not aware of this?” I can’t help the accusation in my tone.
The sapling pushes his hood off to meet my gaze, as if I can read the truth in those black eyes. “I was not, Your Highness.”
I want to believe him. “We have a mess to clean up, and it seems I owe you my thanks, Ybarisan.” I hold out my hand. A peace offering.
Kienen looks at it. “If it’s all the same, I would prefer your honesty.”
“In what regard?”
He looks back to where Romeria and Gesine kneel, attempting to save Telor’s life. “Who is this person who plays the princess of Ybaris?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ROMERIA
A feeble hand grips my forearm, breaking my hold of my affinity.
“What are you doing to me?” Lord Telor croaks.
My spirits surge. He’s conscious and speaking. “Trying to save your life. Stay still and let me focus.”
“But you’re … Ybarisan.” I can only make out shadows of his face in the darkness, but his Islorian eyes are stronger and can surely make out every feature of mine.
“I’m a lot of things, actually, but it’s a long story for another time.”
Horses close in, Elisaf and Zorya racing past, each with a bound figure held at dagger point. Zander jumps from his saddle and drops to his knees beside me. “How is he?”
“Conscious. I closed the wound but just barely. There’s still a lot of work to be done inside.” I could feel the threads knitting, but they’re still too loose.
“Braylon …” Telor whispers.
“Alive for now, but seeing as he tried to kill you, I have questions for him.” Zander collects his hand. “Gesine should be the one—”
“She can’t. If she breaks her hold on the taillok, we’ll lose it.” I set my jaw. “I can do this, but you have to let me concentrate.”
A piercing screech—the same one as earlier—cuts through the quiet night, setting my neck hairs on end. I scour the inky sky for its source. High up, among the smattering of clouds that pass the waxing moon, a large, dark shadow circles. “What is that?” I hiss.
“Nothing good.” Zander must have seen it too.
“She is drawing it in,” Gesine whispers, as if the beast can hear her. “It is not safe for us out here.”
“All right. We need to get you inside the gates, my friend. Do you think you can ride?” Zander asks.
“Ride?” Telor lets out a weak chuckle. “How am I even breathing?”
Together with Jarek, Zander hauls Telor off the ground, earning the injured lord’s groans of protest. They hoist him onto Abarrane’s horse. “Get him inside the gate now. We’re right behind you.”
Abarrane takes off as we clamber onto our horses, Kienen helping Gesine onto his.
I’m reaching for my reins when the ground shudders. Eros rears, catching me off guard. I tumble backward and hit the dirt, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.
“Romeria!” Zander is kneeling next to me in a split second, his hands gripping my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I croak, though I’m not sure I am. What made the earth rattle and Eros react?
“Fates,” Zander whispers, tension coursing through his touch. “You must get up, Romeria. You must get up now.” He hauls me to my feet as if I’m a small child, fallen. Together we back up slowly, his body blocking mine. I can’t make out anything ahead, the darkness swallowing all.
My view of the camp across the plain—all the little campfire lights—is just … gone.
“What is it?” The horses shuffle back and forth, their riders struggling to keep them in place.
No one answers me.
Gesine’s orb materializes and floats outward, rising above us, swelling as it climbs, illuminating an enormous, scaly body.
“Oh my God.” My fingers grip Zander’s arm with terror as I take in the beast that sits no more than thirty feet away from us. It’s at least five times the size of the grif, and ten times as menacing, jagged horns protruding from its forehead like a crown, its bat-like wings held high in the air.