Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
There’s a sucking sound in the darkness, and I realize Raptor is licking the taste of me off his fingers. Heat creeps up my face, and my heart flutters at what he said earlier. That he hasn’t tasted me yet. That he wants to do it when we get back. By Asteria, I want that as well. I have no idea where we’re going to go so that we can fuck in private, but I’m utterly game.
“Do I need to ask?” Raptor’s voice is amused as it floats through the darkness.
“No. Best if you don’t,” I tell him tartly. “But I’m ready to rejoin the others.”
His hand grasps mine in the dark, and I expect him to put it on his arm. Instead, he lifts it to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”
“I know. I probably seem like a lunatic to you.”
“I also can’t stop thinking about you. If you’re crazed, so am I.”
I smile to myself.
He leads me back to the others. At least, I’m reasonably sure that was the goal. I follow him in the pitch-black, trusting Raptor to lead me forward. I can tell even in the dark when the tunnel opens into the cavern, due to the echoes of our footsteps. There’s the sound of a striker, and a spark in the darkness that illuminates Hemmen’s and Arrod’s faces, with Kipp shooting them a look of pure annoyance from below.
Just as quickly as the spark flares, it goes out again.
“By the bull god’s testicles, you still don’t have the lamp lit?” Raptor’s voice booms so loud in the darkness that I jump. He tucks my hand into his arm, pats it, and then leads me forward. “Here, let me do it.”
“Did you find Gwenna?” Arrod asks.
“I’m right here,” I chime in. “I just needed a moment.”
“If you’re scared, you can hold on to me,” Arrod jokes.
Raptor growls, and there’s a heavy jingle of gear. A scuffle.
“Put me down! I was just joking!”
Raptor snarls. “Apologize.”
“I’m sorry, Gwenna! I’m sorry!”
“It’s all right. He’s just being fussy.” I reach out for Raptor and only encounter his lashing tail. It swats at my hand, and I grab it and hold on to the fuzzy tip. “Can we please light the lamp already?”
Another jingle of gear, and the sound of feet hitting the floor. “Give me the strikers,” Raptor says.
More jingling.
Light flares into the darkness again, and Raptor’s long face is illuminated by the flicker of fire as he adjusts the lamp. He lifts it into the air and gestures at our group. “Go on.”
“Go on, what?” Arrod adjusts his tunic, an indignant expression turning his mouth down.
“Master Jay wants you to find an artifact. Probably should get to it.” Raptor winks at me.
Arrod and Hemmen look at each other. Then at me. Then at Kipp.
“Our sword should probably be in the lead,” I remind them, picking up my pack from where I’d dropped it earlier. “That’s you, isn’t it, Kipp?”
Kipp gives our group a fierce nod and then picks up the loose end of the rope, eyeing me and then Raptor.
Right. We should tether ourselves again. I take it and loop in at my belt, then hold it out to Raptor.
“Want to do me the honors?” he asks, gesturing at the lantern he’s holding aloft.
I put the rope around his waist, and as I do, I notice the raging erection tenting the front of his pants. My face gets hot.
It’s a good thing that it’s so dark in here.
* * *
It’s very evident after a while that we have no idea where to begin. Kipp leads us up and down the tunnel, and we examine our surroundings, searching for the very things that Master Jay told us to hunt for—ruins hidden under moss. Rock falls. I desperately want to point out the broken column on the lip higher up the wall, but I also don’t want to be the one to call attention to it. Instead, I deliberately avoid looking there and gamely shoulder my pickaxe and shovel as Kipp points out one spot, and then another.
And we dig.
We hammer at the rock. We look for clues. Aspeth—er, Sparrow—mentioned to me once that everything from Old Prell has a layer of the salty lichen that preserves it all. We look for that, but the tunnel here—the practice tunnel—is heavily traveled, and I can see no sign of where an artifact might be hidden. Neither does anyone else.
Raptor refuses to help, too. He holds the lantern and shoots amused looks in our direction. “You four need the experience, not me.”
After what feels like hours, we dig at a spot of crumbling rock until we’ve dug a Kipp-sized hole and find nothing of value. It’s the seventh hole we’ve dug in the last while, and I’m tired and sweaty, and the buzzing from the dead is starting to peck at me again, like a thousand angry birds.