Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Understanding dawned even as his eyes bugged. “So the whole time... it was you.”
“Yes, but we don’t have time to get into the details,” I shouted over the melee. “There are flowers everywhere! If the mob gets to Alisdair, they’ll be able to hurt him. Kill him! We can’t let that happen. You have to help me get to him first.”
“What can I do?”
I pointed at his crystal. “You can use magic. I can’t. Just help me get to the castle, and I’ll take it from there.” I made to run, then stopped. “Wait, is your wife safe?”
“She’s visiting her family in the Yararill Caves, and thank Meya for that.”
“Then let’s make sure you get back to her. We’ll stick together, yes? Have each other’s backs?”
He snorted. “I learned a long time ago that the safest place is by your side, Volka. Let’s go save Lumenfell.”
No more talk was needed. We took off for the trees, trying to avoid the crush as much as possible. Skirting around the outer edge of the village, Castle Riagin loomed over the horizon—swaying through the stinging, teary haze of smoke.
Flying figures surrounded it—pummeling the windows, walls, and doors with fire spells. But just as many flying figures faced them with weapons of magic and bronze—the proud uniform of the Lumenfell Army on their backs.
“Hold out a little longer,” I whispered. “I’m coming.”
“Riordan, what happened?” I called to him. He ran from my left side to my right and back to my left, keeping an eye out for anything that might come from the light, or the dark. “It’s taken centuries for the curse to bleed over the borders of Quatassa and Sarabai, but now it rips across two thousand miles and transforms half the people in Lyrica within a week? I asked Treasa to trigger the spread, but I didn’t expect this!”
“I don’t know who Treasa is, but I do know what happened on the day the temperature in Lumenfell dropped a life-crushing fifty degrees, and the sky grew so dark, not even the orblights could brighten our days.”
“What?” I asked, keeping my dagger out in front of me as I ran. “What happened?”
“The kingdom received word that Queen Emiana, ruler of Wind and Wild, had died.”
I tripped. Stumbling over a tree root, I pitched forward—knife flying out of my hand. Dazed, the pain took longer to reach me, because his words had first.
“Dead?! Alisdair thinks I’m dead? Why?”
“I don’t know, Calli, it’s just what we were told. All of Lumenfell has been in mourning for days, and then today, the sky just opened up and...” He gazed out at his burning home. “They attacked.”
“Oh no,” I cried. “We need to get to Alisdair now!”
I raced off leaving Riordan to follow.
“Get him!”
“Kill them!”
“Shadowsoul did this to us!”
We burst out of the trees beside a burning home. Broken glass crunched under our boots, the shattered remains of the greenhouses I so admired. Was it really me who walked side by side with Alisdair, beaming so wide my face hurt while he led me through the greenhouse that was to be mine? It was hard to remember being so happy while everyone and everything I came to know and love... burned.
“He turned us into beasts! He’s robbed us of the sun and stars, forcing us to root around in the muck and dark like pigs while he sits on a throne of gold!”
“That’s not true,” I burst out, charging around the cover of building. “You have everything all wrong! Alisdair didn’t curse you! He didn’t curse anyone! He’s the one who—”
I rushed into the street, and locked eyes with Meallan.
He stood before the raging, torch-carrying mob wearing clothes. Not just any clothes, but light, breezy, colorful breeches and a silk shirt—the style of Lyricans. In that second, I knew.
“You,” I hissed, lips peeling back from my teeth.
Meallan looked at me, then flicked away—turning his back on me completely. He didn’t have a clue who I was.
“Today we fight back!” he hollered, sending the mob into a frenzy. Behind them, a wall of wolves clashed with the Lumenfell soldiers, ever obedient to their alpha. “We take back Lyrica! We take back Elva! We free our home from the scourge of Alisdair Shadowsoul!”
“Yeah!”
“Take the flowers, everyone!” Meallan presented the delicate, purple flower crushed in his grip. “Rub it over your fists and weapons. Weave it into your magic. It will protect us, and kill him!”
“Yeah!”
“No!” I screamed against the wind—a lone voice in a raging sea.
“Attack!” Meallan shouted.
They charged the drawbridge, the most unnatural sight with beautiful flowers in their hands, and hate etched into their faces.
“Don’t do this!” I ran out in front of them and was roughly hauled back.
Riordan snapped me to his chest, throwing us both out of the way of the stampede.
“Riordan, the mark!”
“Was on Emiana’s body, not yours,” he finished, helping me up.