Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
The male had removed his shirt. Or rather, Micah had shredded the material. No scars marred his skin. Meaning, the other king was not a chimera. Meaning, a year ago, when Kaysar first returned to the Dusklands with Cookie, Micah had spared him for nothing, as suspected.
“What are your intentions toward my sister?” Kaysar demanded between labored breaths. Punch.
Duck. “You’ll know after I do.” Punch.
“How can you not know?” his opponent demanded. “What are you hiding?”
“Yes, let me divulge my secrets to you.” They circled each other. “The king I’ve envisioned killing for a year.”
Swipe. “If you do not value your prize, you do not get to keep it.”
Slash. “Save your sage wisdom for someone else. Your words matter as much as your opinion.”
The spectators perched in their vine chairs. Most of them had slept through the night, growing bored with the battle. Not Viori. She’d sat in place, stiff as a board, utterly still with the doll napping in her lap. Her gaze drank in Micah’s every action. Micah’s, not her brother’s. Her ears had twitched at every word he’d uttered. Not that anything more than insults and threats of dismemberment had been said. He thought she might have flinched at the announcement of his lack of intentions, and his chest clenched. What did any of it mean?
Don’t think, don’t feel. Fight.
He and Kaysar swung at each other with more and more determination, coming out of their stupors and going for vulnerable spots. Eyes, nose, throat, vital organs and groin. Until an image shot through his head, stopping him cold.
Micah clutched at his temples. He shut his eyes, but he couldn’t block the sight consuming his mind. Trolls, invading the oasis from every direction, surrounding the area. Too many to count, all focused on Viori. Though he fought with all his might, he couldn’t get to her in time and—
Air exploded from his lungs as Kaysar’s fist connected with his gut. “What are you doing?” the king hissed. “Battle me.”
Fear overcame Micah for one, suspended moment. Long enough to change the entire course of his life.
The oracle cried, “Trolls!”
Each of the spectators jumped to their feet, awake and alert. The battle ended, both Kaysar and Micah rushing to their women as Pearl Jean and Jareth drew together. Viori set the doll on her feet and hastened over, meeting him halfway.
Fatigue instantly forgotten, he palmed two daggers; the fact that his wife had aimed for him rather than her brother left him reeling. What’s more, her sibling had chosen Cookie and Amber, as if trusting Micah to care for Viori.
“To the palace,” Kaysar shouted. “It’s the safest place to be right now.”
Micah flung his arm around Viori and flittered—nowhere. He frowned and glanced at his wrist cuff. The amplio stone was gone. Courtesy of Elena?
Bewildered cries rang out. “I can’t flitter!”
“Why can’t I flitter?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“At some point during the sparing match, Norok must have dumped tollo dirt in the tunnels beneath us,” he grated. “Without an amplio stone, we’ll be unable to flitter anywhere until we’re out of range.”
“How much time do we have?” Kaysar demanded of Amber.
The oracle closed her eyes, looking inward, and breathed deep. “Minutes. Maybe seconds. They’re closing in fast. If Cookie opens a door, she won’t be able to close it in time. Trolls will follow us through.”
“Chantel goes alone, and we guard the doorway until it closes,” Kaysar shouted. “Go now, love. Don’t argue.”
Chantel. A name only the male used for his queen.
“Screw that. I’ll build us a wall of protection,” Cookie said, spreading her arms. The ground shook, slithering vines ripping through the soil roughly fifty feet away, shooting up and out. New vines branched off the old ones, quickly establishing a border around the trees.
Nowhere out but underground now. But they couldn’t risk delving underground. No telling how many traps Norok had prepared.
“Jareth, you know what to do,” Cookie called.
“On it.” The Winterlander angled his hands toward the developing vines. Ice sprayed from his fingertips, glazing the foliage and filling in any cracks.
“Chantel, remember your promise to me.” Kaysar snapped the words. The harshest tone he’d ever used with the female. “Protect the babies, no matter what. Take yourself home. Please, love.”
Babies? The queen was pregnant? Micah reeled harder.
“I stay and fight,” she insisted. “I remember my promise to protect you as much as the twins. I won’t go one-on-one with a troll unless necessary. So, I’ll stay and vine myself, watching the battle through the foliage in case I’m needed. Pearl Jean’s healing abilities might be needed. Amber’s foresight might be needed, too. They stay. Viori gets a one-way ticket home, though.”
“I knew leaving the palace was a mistake,” Pearl Jean lamented.
Viori pressed closer to Micah. “I stay. I can help.”
Kaysar huffed an irritated breath. “Very well,” he told his wife. “Vine the other females. Especially my sister. Viori, dear, be sure to touch nothing and all will be well.” His shoulders rolled in. “This time, I swear it.”