Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Lach stands, his massive hands clenched into fists. There’s practically steam coming out of my brother’s ears. “Leave us.”
I put a hand up, a gesture to slow down. “Don’t be so quick to judge. It’s his nature. But it’s also his nature to help his master.”
Amber eyes roll. “He ain’t me master. He’s me friend, and yes, I want to help him. I was only making a wee joke about the stinking corpses. Come on, man. It was funny. Like the dog today. Damn thing tried to wag half a tail.”
The phooka laughs, the sound a bit maniacal, but he’s right. Not about the half-tailed dog, but he’s fast in his horse form, and phookas are known to be hard to see unless they want to be seen.
“You know where Tuathanas is?” I ask.
Lach moves to sit beside me, a scowl on his face. “I’m sure he knows where everything is.”
The phooka scratches at his scruffy head. “I do, indeed. And I swear on all that Danu’s given me, I’m not lying. I want Torin out as much as the rest of you. Probably more since I don’t have anywhere else to go. There’s no kingdom waiting for me. There’s only this farm and those Fae, and Torin will kill us all if something doesn’t change. We’ve been safe here in the mountains. He hasn’t had the inclination to attack, but he will eventually and we’ll fall. So I’m offering you a deal, one time only, Your Highnesses. I shall carry you to the princess. I will be your ally. Me word is me bond. And I expect that you’ll treat your ally with every due care.”
The phooka’s amber eyes burn in the dim light of the barn.
Lach looks at me and slowly nods.
I take the phooka’s hand. “Allies.”
The phooka’s hand tightens and his form wavers. “Don’t forget it, Your Highness. Don’t forget what we do to those who cross us. I’m the boogey man. I know what your fear is.” He turns those burning eyes to Lach. “And his radiates off him.”
The phooka changes, his hand releasing mine. His form shimmers and reassembles itself. I shudder and shrink back at what I see sitting in front of me.
“Ain’t this what you both fear deep down?” The phooka’s voice speaks, but it’s through my own lips.
I sit in front of myself, my smile wide and calm, but the rest of me is on fire, the flames flaring out and crackling, tendrils of heat and agony pointing like accusatory fingers.
“Look at me. I’m brighter than the sun and a whole lot more deadly. I can’t control meself. I’ll burn down everyone I love.” The phooka changes, taking on Lach’s likeness, but this is a different Lach than the brother I know. This Lach is sunken, all the light in his face gone as though someone snuffed his candle out and what is left behind is a ruined, useless wick. Death hangs on this Lach, a cloak he donned and wrapped around his soul. Maggots crawl on his arms, and a black-eyed rat pokes its head from under his collar. “Lord of the Dead. Who could love you? Who wants a cold embrace when they could have a hot one? Is there an inch of you that truly lives, Death Lord?”
And then the phooka is a slight, wild-haired man again, his eyes narrow. “Yes, I know what scares you both. Don’t you forget it when the going gets tough and someone like me is easy to leave behind. Know that you can never really leave me. I would be with you for always and always, a nightmare under your bed.”
The phooka smiles as though we’re having a pleasant conversation. He tips his head. “Meet me in an hour out back, and be ready to fly.”
The phooka disappears, and we hear the rush of air and then a whinny signaling he is again a horse. There’s the sound of hooves on the floor and then all is silent.
Lach gets up and stares down at the floor of the barn. “I’m thinking once that fucker’s dead, he’s mine. How would you like that, phooka? How would you like dangling on my strings, dancing when I tell you to dance?”
I sigh. I’m still shaken, but the truth is it’s no surprise. “Leave him be. He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. You’re afraid of what I’ll do, and I’m scared of losing you to the darkness.”
Lach scrubs a hand through his hair as he paces. “Why do you always find a way to be more reasonable than me? Though I still think I have the better idea. It can be rough on the road. Horses make good jerky. He’ll have a damn hard time sneaking under my bed when the bastard’s in my belly.”