Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Misha scoffs behind me as my feet hit the ground. “Stubborn girl,” he mutters, but I don’t miss the note of pride in his voice.
I hand the reins to the boy, and I turn to Misha with a smirk. “Not as helpless as you think.”
“It’s true you handled the ride better than I expected, though I imagine you’ll be sore tomorrow.”
I probably will. I’m more accustomed to time on horseback than the princess, but I imagine this body will feel that ride in the morning.
Misha extends a hand, indicating for me to lead the way up the steps. “I’m proud of you,” he says, remaining by my side as we ascend. His voice is rough, as if these words are hard for him to say but they’ve been waiting in his throat the whole ride. “I’m not heartless. I want you to know that I am aware of what a mark Mordeus left on you, and under different circumstances, I would allow you to stay out of any information gathering regarding him.”
I cut my gaze to him briefly before focusing on the steps again. He and Brie both say they know Mordeus made a mark on Jas, but from what I can tell, neither one of them has any idea how deep that mark goes, how dramatically her days in his dungeon made her lose faith in the world. In the fae. And worse, in herself.
We come upon the curved oak doorway, and I turn to him. “Different circumstances being what?” I ask.
“You’ve been hiding in your shell for too long, Jas.” His eyes are full of sadness as they scan my face. “For a long time I wanted it for your sister—hoped you would wake up and break free of this darkness for her sake. Or for her court.” He swallows hard. “But now I just want you to do it for yourself. To live again, for yourself.”
My heart twists. I wish Jas were here to hear that. I don’t think she realizes how much the people in her life care. I don’t think she’s wanted to realize. It was easier to hide if she believed they didn’t understand, if she believed they didn’t see her.
“Do you really think he’s back?” I ask.
Misha tilts his head side to side thoughtfully. “If such a thing is possible, the Jewel would be able to explain how. Her time is precious, so I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think there was a chance.” He reaches around me and opens the door.
The sanctuary is made of quartz and glass. Every surface sparkles and shines, a visual match for the low, pleasant humming that fills my ears. The moment the door falls closed behind us, a quiet comes over me—not a comforting quiet, but something instinctive that tells me I need to be cautious here, something primal that reminds me of my vulnerabilities and makes the next world, whatever comes after this life, feel too close.
Misha turns to me, arching a brow, and I realize I’ve stopped moving. I’ve frozen in the foyer of this disturbingly beautiful sanctuary.
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “What you’re feeling is normal. I imagine it’s more intense for a human. Just keep your guard up.”
Nodding, I follow him in and keep my body as near to him as I dare.
The deeper we get, the more the humming amplifies, and the space seems to grow around us—as if we’re walking down the hall of a grand palace and not the entrance to a small sanctuary. A chill runs through me at the wrongness of it.
“That doorway,” I whisper, still walking, still putting one foot in front of the other even as the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, even when my mind tells me we should’ve hit the rear of the small building by now.
“Don’t speak of it here,” he says, his voice just as low.
I grab on to Misha’s hand, and he squeezes mine in return.
Deeper and deeper into the sanctuary we go, and at the back, sitting on the floor with her eyes closed and her legs crossed, waits a wizened ancient fae, the silver webbing on her forehead pulsing with light. Is she praying? Meditating?
Misha puts a hand in front of me, stopping my progress. He lowers to his knees and bows his head. I follow his lead, kneeling on the hard floor beside him. The humming, I realize, is coming from her. It vibrates the floors, and I feel it in my limbs.
“Thank you for seeing us, Gaelynn, Jewel of Peace,” Misha says.
I feel his fear. He has never liked coming here, visiting her, has seen it as both a duty and an honor, but one he dreads all the same.
The female doesn’t reply, but the humming continues, low and steady.
“We are here because we need to assess a threat. We need to know if someone has crossed from the other side and back into the world of the living.”