The Midsummer Bride – The Dead Lands Read Online Kati Wilde

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
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Elina shook with laughter, as she almost always did when Warrick spoke of his and Bannin’s travels. In return, she’d told him of the courts she’d visited, their intrigues—and especially their absurdities.

Yet there was one story she hadn’t heard. “When did you meet Bannin?” Nearly half a world lay between Galoth and the Dead Lands.

“Fifteen years past. Or near to that.”

“Not long after leaving your clan?” Warrick had been fifteen when he’d gone—the same age as Elina when she’d left Aleron. Though unlike Elina, Warrick had chosen to leave.

“The following summer. It was in Wintermere—north of the Illwind Sea.”

Elina had never been so far east, but she knew the kingdom he spoke of. “And you came upon a ghost?”

Nearly all of his adventures started in that way.

“I did. She named the prince who killed her, and when I sought her murderer, I found Bannin and other mercenaries had been hired to serve as the prince’s guard. Bannin did not intend to let me past him. I did not intend to be thwarted. So we were gleefully trying to kill each other when Bannin suddenly stopped and asked me why I glowed.”

“So you told him?”

“And showed him the woman’s ghost. Bannin returned to the prince and killed the man himself—then announced that he would travel with me henceforth.”

“As your guard?”

Warrick laughed and shook his head. “For a diversion, I suspect. He said that what I did was far more interesting than guarding spoiled princes.”

“I imagine he is correct.”

“He had not long to judge whether it was. Only a few years later, the jewels were stolen and the stone sickness struck—and we began searching for them.”

Which was the source of many more of his stories, during the years when Warrick and Bannin had not becomes thieves in truth, yet often employed the same methods in their search for Anhera’s stars. She knew of no one who’d hidden under so many beds or climbed through as many windows as Warrick.

It was unfortunate he’d never made his way under her bed. They would have found each other much sooner.

“What is it?” he asked, catching her smile.

“I was thinking that while you were searching for me, I was searching for you. Though neither of us knew who we were searching for.”

“It only matters that we knew when we found each other.”

Eyes warm, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the red ribbon around her wrist—which had not frayed a single thread or faded in color, though she’d worn it continually for nearly a month and had subjected it to frequent washings. That their vows had cast some spell onto the ribbon could not be argued against. But as they would never unmarry, that mattered less than knowing the spell also preserved the red satin, and she would never have to fear the ribbon would tatter and break.

“Shall I carry you to see our Troll?”

Elina nodded, and soon Warrick held her in the barge’s stable. Troll’s stall seemed hardly large enough for the monstrous horse. “He seems restless,” she observed after feeding to him a slice of apple.

“He is. A few rounds of exercise upon the deck each day is not enough for him.”

Elina thought it was not enough for Warrick, either, now that the worst of her sickness had passed. During the purge, he’d attended her faithfully. He’d likely never even considered leaving her side. Yet now the confinement seemed to be wearing on him. By tomorrow, he might be carrying her around all day simply to be active and moving.

And knowing now that he’d lasted a month in a lightless cell—though at any time he could have escaped—simply to give those enslaved families a better chance of remaining undetected until they sailed?

Never had Elina met anyone she admired more. “How much longer do we travel by river?”

“Ten days.”

“And to Galoth?”

“Another fortnight.”

That seemed enough time. She stroked Troll’s velvety muzzle. “When I am strong enough, I will buy my own horse to ride.”

Warrick scowled. “I prefer that you ride with me.”

“As do I. But I wish to ride into Aleron upon my own mount. Not while being held. Or…giving any appearance of being weak.”

Weak as her mother had believed her to be. As Nanny Char had. Though she knew the nurse had been wrong, still Chardryn’s words had worn away at Elina, fraying her own edges.

Understanding softened his frown. “Then we will find you a mount. Though never have I thought you weak, Elina. Not even during the worst of the purge, when you could not rise from your bed or lift your head.”

Sweet tears clogged her throat. Thickly she asked, “Will you set me on my feet?”

Gently he did, then steadied her with his hands at her waist. At a crook of her finger, he bent his head. She rose onto her toes to meet him, a soft kiss that gradually deepened until Elina was bearing none of her own weight, for he’d lifted her against his chest to better take possession of her mouth.



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