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 don’t worry about things like that,” I tell him, leaning forward as the carriage pitches up the hill. “I’m too busy trying to survive. Must be nice to be able to sit back in your heavily guarded castle and worry about the end of the world.”
He takes my comments in stride, running a hand through his hair. “Fair point. But if all you care about is surviving, then the end of the world concerns you too.”
I shrug and turn my attention back to the window, though I have to admit I’m curious.
Soon the carriage plateaus on the top of the hill, rumbling through a path of sculpted trees until it comes to a stop. Gudwale opens the coach doors for us and puts out his arm for me to take. I glance at Andor, who gestures for me to go forward.
I hesitantly take Gudwale’s arm and step out of the carriage, my boots echoing on the stone ground. And that’s when I’m glad I’m holding on to him, because the sight before me nearly makes my knees buckle.
Stormglen sits around us like a lion, a sprawling estate of a castle as long as it is tall, seeming to swallow up the entire hill. We’re standing in front of massive wooden doors that are closed, an iron grille of portcullises above them, with stone garrisons that rise up on either side of the gates. There looks to be space behind it, perhaps a courtyard, before it rises up three stories with two semicircular bastions on either side of the gates. The castle itself is made from some sort of iridescent black stone that shimmers silver in the waning sun, and trails of green vines climb up the walls in places, making it look less austere. The windows are arched with gilded frames, and there are stained-glass windows covering the arrow slits along the bastions and parts of the tower, as if the place is torn between being a castle and a fortress.
Lemi sniffs my hand and I can feel him wanting to run forward and explore, perhaps pee on many of the various potted trees that line up around the outside of the walls, but I make a motion with my fingers for him to stay still.
Just as the large wooden doors swing open and a tall, stocky man with a thick neck and long dark hair steps out, a scowl on his face, a large mug of what looks like ale in his hand.
He fixes his black eyes on me. Looks me up and down, wrinkles his nose, and says, “Who in damnation is this?”
Chapter 8
Andor
I had hoped that when we arrived at Stormglen, my uncle would not be the one to greet us. Though “greeting” usually conveys niceties. There are no such things with my Uncle Kjell, especially when he’s had a few drinks.
“Uncle,” I say, pasting a smile on my face. I do it more to piss him off since he always says I’m grinning like a fool. “This is Brynla Aihr,” I tell him. “And her dog, Lemi.”
It’s only now that my gawking uncle pulls his eyes off Brynla and notices the giant black hound sitting patiently beside her. His grimace deepens and he looks to me.
“Am I supposed to know who the fuck Brynla Aihr is?” he grumbles. “Other than the fact that she’s a foreigner. A purple-haired one at that. Sunburnt skin. Fucking hell, she’s a bloody Eslander, isn’t she?”
I expect Brynla to bite back but she remains silent, though I can feel the negative energy roiling up inside her.
“She’s an Eslander,” I say. “One of the Freelanders. From the Banished Land. And she is now a prisoner of Stormglen.”
Brynla flinches and looks at me as if I’ve betrayed her. Perhaps the word prisoner was a bit too harsh, even if it’s technically true.
“A prisoner?” Uncle Kjell takes a step forward to her, looking her over again. “She’s not bound.”
“We have an agreement,” I tell him.
“An agreement, eh?” he says, narrowing his eyes at me. “And does your father know about this?”
I square my shoulders, breathing out sharply through my nose so I can focus and stay calm. “No.”
“No?” Brynla says, pivoting to face me, her dark eyes blazing. “You mean they don’t know about your plan?”
I give her a stiff smile, mentally willing her to keep quiet. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned it in passing to my father before. He’ll think it’s a good idea.”
“Is that so?” Kjell says. “Taking an Eslander prisoner. A Freelander at that. Knowing you and your schemes, it’s about as useless and harebrained as the last one. Tell me, nephew, what is this agreement you have?”
“Nothing I’m willing to discuss with you,” I say to him, and grab Brynla’s arm, pulling her around him and through the doors into the courtyard, Lemi staying close to her heels. “The goods are in the carriage,” I call to him over my shoulder.