Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“They look so peaceful,” I whisper.
Lark twists her lips, considering. “There’s a certain peace in death, but unrest will follow if you allow it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me.” Lark’s gift is seeing the future, but she’s never shown me an image as precise as this.
“They’re looking for you,” she says, her eyes bright. “You need to come home. For the children. For the court.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have a home.” My sister is the only person who truly cares for me, and she’s in a realm I can no longer visit now that I’m fae. “Sebastian has the crown. I’m sorry.”
She presses a tiny finger to my lips and looks over her shoulder into the dark night. “Listen.” A shout echoes in the distance, from another world. “It’s time.”
Chapter Two
I wake with a start to the sound of someone shouting beyond the bedroom door. My eyes are gritty, my muscles still lethargic with sleep. I reach for Sebastian, wanting his heat and needing his comfort for as long as I can have it. Soon enough I’ll need to crawl out of this bed and—
I bolt upright.
Someone’s shouting in the hall, calling for the maid and screaming about incompetence.
Moonlight shines in through a tiny window, drenching everything in a silvery glow. It calls to me, and if I closed my eyes, it would sing me back to sleep.
My mind spins, scrambles, then clicks. I’m not at the Golden Palace with the male I love; I’m in a run-down inn a day’s ride east. I’m not sleeping next to Sebastian; I’m running from him.
I hop out of bed and grab my satchel, slinging it over my shoulder before quietly opening the door.
The orc is grumbling in the hall, fussing about his wet pants, and glaring at the toppled glass and puddle of water. My crude trap did its job.
With my head down to hide my smile, I turn toward the stairs and head to the stables. The night is dark and starless, and clouds slide across the moon. The air smells of rain. Did I sleep through a storm, or is there one coming?
My horse brays when she spots me. I stroke the mare’s nose and coo in her ear. Keeping one eye on the door to the inn, I throw on her saddle and tinker with the straps.
The orc pushes into the night and lumbers toward the stables. I keep my head bowed, willing myself to go unnoticed as he claims his massive horse. He hoists himself onto his steed, kicks him in the sides, and gallops off into the night.
Discreetly noting his direction, I force myself to count to thirty before climbing onto my own horse and making my way toward the road. I wait until we’re away from the stables before I wrap myself and my mare in shadows, hiding us from the sight of anyone we might pass.
My muscles cramp in protest, reminding me that I spent far too many hours on horseback yesterday. The few hours of sleep I managed at the inn weren’t nearly enough to recover, but they’ll have to do. Swiping at my gritty, tired eyes, I ignore the aches that travel from my thighs, up my spine, and all the way down my arms.
When the trail turns deeply wooded, the orc holds his lantern aloft to light the way. Staying back, I let the dense black night fall around me, cradle me, disguise me, and I make a plan.
Finn and I were able to use my magic to free Jalek from the windowless, doorless cell in the Golden Palace, and that was before I drank the Potion of Life. Now that I’m fae, my power feels endless, like a constantly refilling well. Before, I needed to focus to find it, but now it’s at my fingertips, as natural as breathing. If I can sneak into the prison, I should be able to use my gift to guide the children out through the walls and into the safety of the night. I won’t risk taking too many at once, but I will return as many times as necessary.
We ride for nearly half an hour before the path turns out of the forest and back into the moonlight. Unintelligible shouts ring out in the distance, and the smell of fire tickles my nose. A final steep incline reveals pure chaos ahead. Cursing loudly, the orc dismounts and pulls a sword from his hilt before running into the fray. Fires blaze at random intervals throughout the clearing, and fae of all sorts dart in every direction. Some, dressed in the yellow and gray of the queen’s guard, wield rope and nets and chase after children. Others swing swords and knives, felling the uniformed guards.
My mare whinnies and backpedals.
“Shhh,” I whisper, turning into a patch of trees out of sight of the melee. I jump to the ground and grab her reins, tying her loosely to a tree. “I’ll be back soon.”