Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I open my palm and stare at the egg, heavier than any dragon egg I’ve ever held. It pulses metallic pink for a moment before it goes back to being a muted shade of purple gray, the color of twilight.
“What are you doing?”
I gasp and whirl around while tucking the egg into one of my robed sleeves, sliding it into the pouch sewn into my armor.
“Sister Marit?” the Harbringer asks sharply, having identified something about my robe and veil that gives away who I’m trying to be.
I can’t answer, not even if I wanted to. I’m so struck by the sight of the Harbringer’s awful face, thrust back to my very first day here, grieving the deaths of my father and mother, that I’m speechless.
Her cataracted eyes sweep over me, her expression hardening. She’s still so pale, so ancient looking that I’m starting to wonder if she’ll live forever.
“You’re not Sister Marit,” she says stiffly, slowly reaching into her robe.
I have no time to weigh my options.
I reach into mine, pulling out my ash-glass sword just as she brings out something dark and small that fits into her palm. A miniature bolt-thrower with a button trigger, the arrowhead razor-sharp and shiny.
It’s aimed right at me.
“Who are you?” the Harbringer says. “Reveal yourself before I shoot you.”
“I’ll just deflect it with my sword,” I say through gritted teeth. “And I’ll cut your throat a second after that.”
“And if you can’t?” she counters, raising her chin as she takes a step toward me. “If this arrow pierces your skin, you’ll have five seconds before you succumb to an agonizing death. It is laced with the blood of a sandviper. Perhaps you’re familiar with those.”
I was. Many of my parents’ livestock were bitten by them. A horrible, drawn-out way to die, but part of life in the plains outside Lerick.
I don’t want to call this woman’s bluff—I don’t think she’s bluffing.
But I need to kill her if I want to make it out of here with the egg.
I refuse to die.
“I’m familiar with everything,” I tell her.
The corner of her wrinkled mouth curls, as potent as a viper’s bite. “And you are familiar to me. Tell me, who are you? There are so many disgruntled youths whose backs I never had the pleasure of breaking.”
How many? I think. How many others are like me, who have escaped your torment?
But that question is for another day.
Instead, I say nothing. With my eyes locked on her, my sword acting as a shield, I rip back my veil so that she can see my face.
She doesn’t seem surprised.
“Daughter of Pain,” she croaks to me. “I have been waiting for this moment.”
“I bet you have,” I tell her, brandishing my sword. “I’m flattered that I’ve been on your mind all this time.”
“And I’m glad I’ve been on yours. How long has it been, Daughter of Pain, since I’ve been at the forefront of all your thoughts? Since I became the scapegoat for all your anger? How many years have you tried to start a new life in the Dark City, corrupted by your aunt?”
I swallow hard. She’s just guessing now.
“Ah,” she says with a knowing nod. “You really think we haven’t kept tabs on you all this time? You thought you could escape into the Banished Land and we would be done with you? We never forget one of our own, my dear. You know that. We don’t let our daughters become so easily corrupted, especially by Freelanders. It’s taken time, of course, to build a case against you. For us to realize what you had become a bloody thief. Stealing dragon eggs, the most punishable, blasphemous offense that ever was, especially for you. You of all people should have known better. Spreading magic throughout the syndikats. It wasn’t until our spies in the Dark City were able to home in on you that we were finally able to bring our case to the Black Guard and have you dealt with.”
She pauses and I feel like I’m drowning under her words.
“It wasn’t Sjef Ruunon or the Dalgaards who had your aunt killed.” A smile. “It was me.”
My knees are about to give out, shock rolling through my body.
I had suspected it could have been the Black Guard that came after us, but I never thought that the Harbringer was the one behind it.
Now, of course, it’s all too obvious.
I let myself believe I was worth nothing to them, that once I was in the Banished Land they would forget me. There was always another daughter to take my place.
I swallow the dust in my throat. “You let Ellestra go when she escaped the convent,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Why bother with me?”
“Because your aunt isn’t you,” she says. She tilts her head, though my gaze drops to the bolt-thrower in her hand, still aimed at me. Her grip seems more relaxed. Perhaps I have a chance to get her before she gets me. I start calculating how fast I can throw this sword and if it can wound her first.