Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Deep breath in. Out. Azar turned the knob and entered the Hall. The flood of voices crashed into him, and he wavered on his feet. Fighting to stand, he crossed from one end of the corridor to the other. He struggled to keep his thoughts centered on Rathbone, Lore, and Neeka and block out the rest of the chatter. The more stalwart his focus, the faster he would draw information featuring the trio.
One whisper merged into another, his ears twitching each time he identified the objects of his study.
I don’t care what she’s calling herself. That’s her. Jezebel the Destroyer. I know it. I served in her temple as a child, and I’ve never forgotten her wretched face.
As soon as he finishes carving a bone, take it. You’ll be unable to destroy even the smallest fragment, so you will sell some and hide others. Convince me you understand your mission.
If he’s anything like his father, his greatest strength and weakness are the same—his eyes. Blind him, and you can do whatever you wish to him.
You wed her. Now you own her. Give her the remaining doses at once. If she dies, she dies. If she survives, she’ll be able to withstand your fire at last and you can bed her anytime you wish.
She ruined me! Built me up then tore me down. She’ll do the same to him. I just have to outlast him.
When he learns about the child—
A hard rap echoed from the walls. Azar jerked and spun toward the source. Clarity came. Someone stood on the other side of the red door. Only Kanta would dare. Meaning Rathbone and Neeka had been found.
Dizzy from information overload, Azar wiped the sweat from his brow and hurried from the enclosure. He tried to blank his mind and failed. What he’d heard...
What was true and what was a lie someone told someone else? What mattered, what didn’t? At least he’d recognized two of the voices. The male who’d commanded demons to take the bones and the king who’d considered himself ruined. Erebus, who still lived, and Styx, who didn’t.
The tidbit about Jezebel disturbed Azar. Jezebel was a goddess of passion and treachery. A malevolent seducer who left destruction and devastation in her wake. He’d never met her, but he’d certainly heard tales. A lover of legions, a stealer of spouses, and worst of all parasites. After empowering a partner, she syphoned every drop of strength so subtly, they never suspected what had transpired until it was too late.
Was Lore actually Jezebel? She definitely fit the bill.
Deal with the king and his oracle, then figure it out.
Once the block closed behind him, Azar croaked, “Tell me.”
“They made it through a starway,” Kanta replied, his tone stiff. “You’ll find them on Moonides.”
“Moonides.” He blinked with surprise. “Then they’re already dead.”
* * *
Nothing—no vision, premonition, or warning—could have prepared Neeka for what happened next. As she moved to Rathbone’s side, two daggers in hand, a giant white spider with cottony fur, ten yellow eyes, and ten spike-tipped legs creeped over the ceiling in slo-mo. A thick, putrid substance oozed from a mouthful of fangs.
Her wings buzzed with aggression. The creature was something usually only seen in nightmares.
A word drifted through her mind, and she shuddered. “I think this is a zombider.”
“It is,” Rathbone said when she chanced a glance at his lips.
“If I know me, and I do, I told you not to enter the cave until we figured out a way to kill the disgusting zombider.”
“You told me nothing. You passed out.”
Oh. Well. “My bad. So. Have you ever fought one of these?” Would her daggers do any damage to such a colossal beast?
“Never. But I’ve heard of them, and I know a single bite can spread the infection to immortals.”
Temporarily, she hoped. Surely their immortality would cleanse them. Uncertainty seared her sternum. “Do me a favor and don’t die.” Otherwise, she’d be stuck in this world until another flasher showed up.
“Same, oracle. Same.”
As if he cared.
The thought must have fueled the memories that waited at the fringe of her mind; finally they pushed front and center, and she gasped. The elixir. Her attempted seduction of Rathbone. The Hall of Secrets. Lore and her disastrous endgame. Everyone Neeka loved dying if something wasn’t changed.
Any lingering resentment she harbored toward Rathbone faded. They’d kissed. That lip-lock, brief as it had been, was progress. He might not want to want her, but want her he did. At least periodically.
Lowering, the zombider blocked an entrance to the spacious tunnel that stretched behind it. The only way out. It didn’t attack, but paused to look over Neeka and Rathbone, no doubt preparing its dinner menu. First his liver, then her kidney, then a hunk of both their brain matter.
Instinct shouted, Strike!
With a war cry, Neeka tossed a dagger.