Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Kissing her.
Deeply.
The sound of Macrinus calling, “Fuck, Cass. Cass!” was the only reason he broke the embrace.
Both he and Elena looked down to the mouth of the hall where Mac was standing.
“Now…come…now!” Mac shouted, then he was away.
They hesitated long enough to glance at each other before they both jogged that way.
The entryway was vacant, but voices could be heard in the Great Hall, thus, they moved there.
A handsome, dark-skinned Mar-el woman lay back on a couch, gasping for air and appearing in pain.
Melisse sat on her arse on the floor as if she’d collapsed there, knees up, head and back bowed, forearms on her knees, deep breathing into her lap.
Fern was standing above the woman on the couch, her eyes closed, her hands hovering over her, her lips moving in silent wording.
True and Farah were already there, and Aramus and Ha-Lah ran in moments after Cassius and Elena had arrived.
Elena dropped down to a knee beside Melisse, one hand on her friend’s back, bending to her.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
Cassius stood close to them but looked to his right to see Mars jog in, holding Silence’s hand, (though, Silence wasn’t jogging, she was on the trot to keep up with him).
“What’s the urgency?” Mars demanded, his gaze snapping about the room, taking it in.
“Melisse, what’s happened?” Elena asked.
Everyone drew in close as Melisse tipped her head back.
“Rebecca. Nandra,” she said.
But then said no more.
“Rebecca?” True asked.
“What of Nandra?” Mars bit off.
“We…we killed one. It…she…it had not quite recovered from its emergence, I think. Vulnerable. They…my sisters, my sisters are gone, but before they were lost to us, they made it so it is also gone,” Melisse said.
“It? What it?” Elena asked.
Cassius watched as Melisse looked into Elena’s eyes before her gaze moved all around.
She finished, however, back on her sister-daughter.
“There is not but one beast,” she whispered.
The air in the room stood still.
“There are four.”
149
The Examination
Silbury Henge, Argyll Forest
AIREN
The zinging stopped and mists of snow and ash bloomed up when the tridents struck it all around the slab in the center of the circle.
Immediately, there formed ten men, two to each trident.
They stood in the circle, motionless, alert, hands on their weapons.
When they heard nothing, they glanced about.
The clearing all around was mostly covered in black soot, with some disturbances, indications of the movements of beings.
The origin of the ash, it was clear, was the area in front of one of the stones, where there was crater in the earth, the frozen dirt that was exposed oozing with some form of black sludge.
King Cassius Laird was the first to move, his boots crunching in the snow.
He went to the crater and crouched beside it, staring into it in contemplation.
King True Axelsson of Wodell shifted next, going to the slab in the center upon which, covered in fallen ash, there was the corpse of a woman who, through the dark powder that covered her features, he noted had been quite pretty.
But now the skin of her face he could see through the dust was ashen, except about her lips and eyes, where it was blue.
The lifeblood that had flowed from her onto the slab was a muddy red-black color, as it had dried or frozen, but before doing so, had soaked up the ash. Though he could see it was fully crimson where it had seeped over the side into the snow.
King Aramus Nereus of Mar-el moved next, going to squat beside another lifeless body.
She was a woman in Dellish clothes with light-brown hair. She lay facedown in the snow. One arm was cast above her, her wool skirts covered her legs, her cloak was fanned out beside her as if someone had lifted it to let it catch the air and fall in order to spread it artfully.
Blood soaked the soot-covered snow in a pool all about her.
The next to move was King Mars Laches of Firenze.
His boots crunched through the black and white and a vein beat in his temple as he cast his eyes along the length of the slaughter.
He noted immediately there were body parts missing.
Thus, his gaze followed some red droplets, and in the not far distance, he saw her head and her pelvis.
He closed his eyes.
His captains began to shift about outside the stones, keeping alert, tridents at the ready, as King Jorie of the Mer moved from stone to stone, examining the large impressions in the snow before them. The disturbances of nature’s blanket on the ground.
And the footfalls, or what looked like hoof falls that led away from this place.
One of his males came to him and asked low, “Do you wish us to follow them?”
“No,” he grunted, watching True reach out with a gloved hand to close the eyes of the dead woman on the slab.
He then turned to watch as Aramus gently rolled the woman in the snow to her back, and Jorie drew in a deep breath at the gore that had been made of her, from her face all the way down to her sex.