Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Scanning the landscape, his hold lingered for a few heartbeats before he stepped back. “Do you know what needs to be done?”
I swallowed, looking around. “Would you believe me if I lied and said yes?”
“Not when you just admitted you’d be lying.” The faint curve to his mouth warmed the harsh, cold beauty of his face.
I snorted as I tugged the back of my hood down. “Then you know the answer. I’m really not sure.” Lips pursing, I turned back to the parched earth. Doubt began creeping in. “What if I was experiencing delusions of grandeur?”
His rich, smoky chuckle danced in the rapidly darkening sky. “I don’t think that’s the case.”
I probably should’ve stopped and thought about this, but I hadn’t been able to. Literally. Uneasy, my hands opened and closed as I walked forward. Dead grass crunched under the thin soles of my slippers. I stopped by a patch of green and knelt, running my fingers over the fragile blades. My brows knitted as I noticed something I hadn’t before. I lifted my head. “There’s no smell.” I rose, inhaling deeply. “I don’t smell the stale lilac scent of the Rot at all.”
“I haven’t smelled it since you Ascended.” Crossing his arms, he surveyed the ground. “The rest of the grass will come back without any intervention.”
I knew that, but water would obviously aid it along. Messing with one of my fangs with my tongue, I made my way to the edge of the riverbed. Should I instead attempt to bring back the grass? Regenerate new soil? No. We would have to spend the gods only knew how long traveling around the Shadowlands for me to place my hands on the ground, and I couldn’t wait for that.
We couldn’t wait.
Unnerved by the intrusive thought, I eyed the land. Either Ash had mentioned this before or my intuition had told me that these two riverbeds were fed by headwaters located in Mount Rhee, the place the draken called home. These waters didn’t connect to the Black Bay or the Red River, which started in the Abyss. Should we have gone to Mount Rhee instead? “There were animals here, right?”
“There were.”
Fresh, running water would bring them back. Eventually. “What kind?”
“Some were what you’d find in the mortal realm—deer, livestock, wolves, tree bears. All manner of birds.” He paused. “Serpents.”
My lip curled. “You didn’t need to tell me that.”
“Has it changed your mind?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so,” he replied. “There were also animals never seen by most mortals. Beasts both large and small.”
Curiosity rose as I rubbed my damp palms on my cloak. “Like what?”
“Too many to name. But the Shadowlands was once home to the lyrue.”
“The lyrue?” I repeated, the name tugging at the edges of my memory, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually heard the term before.
“They were one of my father’s lesser-known creations. Some would say they were a mistake,” he explained, and I glanced over at him. His features were highlighted under the brightening starlight. “They were originally mortal, and legend says that my father believed he could give mortals a dual life like he did for the draken. But this was different. For what he created were beings mortal by day that took the form of beasts similar to wolves but on two legs at night.”
My forehead creased. “I assume they were considered a mistake because…?”
“Because they had no control over their forms once night fell.”
Why would that be such a big deal when other creatures in Iliseeum weren’t exactly normal to look upon?
Ash cleared that up a moment later. “And because they would then dine on the flesh of others, from cattle to gods and everything in between.”
My mouth dropped open. “Them eating people should’ve been the first thing out of your mouth.”
A wry grin appeared as his head tilted. “You have a point there.”
“Yeah, just a small one,” I replied. “They ate people?” I shook my head. “And they couldn’t be asked to, like, not do that?”
“You could ask them all you wanted, but the moment the sun set, they became nothing but insatiable hunger.” Flat, silver eyes met mine. “It didn’t matter who they were when the sun was high or who they loved. Nor did their horror upon discovering what they’d done in the darkest hours of night when they became the most brutal, primitive versions of the wolf. They’d feast on their babes if left alone with them once the sun faded.”
My stomach hollowed. Eating people was bad enough, but chomping down on one’s own children? That was next level. “They’re gone now?”
Ash nodded.
I started to ask how, but the answer occurred to me. A new horror took root in my chest. “With it not being a true day or night in the Shadowlands…”
“The lyrue remained in their beast forms,” he answered, his jaw hardening. “They had to be hunted into extinction, and for most of them, it was a relief—a release from a life that had become a curse and one they never would’ve chosen for themselves.”