Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
She blinked twice, as if confused by the question. “I remembered because I’m…me.”
Well.
“Drink,” Elowen prompted. “You must be gone before the baby comes. Bad things happen if you’re here when you’re born.”
“Not a statement I ever thought I’d hear,” I muttered. Did I trust Elowen all of a sudden? Ha! Not even a little. Drinking a witch’s brew of unknown ingredients for passage into Hakeldama was foolish. But I could think of no other way to find the Ember of Everlight and right the growing list of wrongs.
With a sigh, I popped the cork. Nerves buzzed, but I didn’t let it stop me. Down the hatch.
A bitter flavor hit my taste buds, and I grimaced as it slid down my throat. There. It was done, the price for a waterway paid.
One second ticked. Then another. No reaction. Well, other than the gleam of satisfaction now glinting in the maiden’s eyes. Enough to raise my hackles and inspire a sick weight of foreboding.
Flash. For a split second, I saw her, looming over my fallen form, smiling down at me as she clasped my hand and helped me stand.
Whoa!
“What did you see first?” she asked, and she couldn’t mask her curiosity.
“I—” A low growl reached my ears, and I whipped my attention to Jasher. Yikes. More of the silver had faded, but wings of the richest onyx were now growing from his back, with matching claws protruding from his fingertips. The bones of his face sharpened until he was a frightening amalgamation of both man and beast. Half and half. Aggression crackled. He fought to free his limbs, muscles straining.
Outside the barn, birds took flight, as if sensing a new threat. Their squawks filled my ears as their wings flapped and shadows shifted.
I dropped the empty bottle and rushed to him. His narrowed gaze stalked me. “Calm down for me, Jasher.” I petted his chest. “All right?”
“Who are you?” He lifted his arms and pulled at handfuls of his hair. “I know you. But I don’t know you. But I do. But I don’t.” More growls. More pulling.
My heart sank. “You know me, Jasher. I’m your princess.”
“Do not speak my name.” Veins bulged as he struggled to gain freedom in his legs. When he failed, he palmed an axe in a blaze of motion.
I stumbled back, out of range.
Clang. He slammed the blade into his thigh. Metal against metal.
I jolted. “Please stop! You’ll hurt yourself.”
“You’re the one who will hurt. I’ll make you suffer a thousand deaths.” Clang. “Where am I? Who are you?” He tossed the questions as if they were daggers laced with poison. Clang.
“I’ll buy another memory restoration serum,” I screeched at Elowen over my shoulder.
Clang, clang.
“There isn’t a big enough payment in all the worlds, darling.” The maiden wagged her head at me, as if disappointed I’d even asked. “Some of the same ingredients that awakened him are also used in the memory wipe tonic. Doubly potent for monstra.”
Dread suffused every cell in my body. “Just name your price.” I reached for Jasher but he swung the axe again. Clang. “I’ll pay it.”
No response. I threw another glance over my shoulder. Gone.
I backtracked, swooping down to collect the cuffs. A sharp prick in the pad of my index finger registered, but I didn’t stop to analyze what had cut me. Driven by instinct—protect my parents—I rushed back to the executioner. Reaching out, preparing to dodge the axe and slap the cuffs around his wrists…
He moved with lightning speed, not attacking with the weapon but using his free hand, raking those razor-edged claws across my chest.
Searing pain. Rising bile. Flashing stars. I experienced all as I hit the ground, losing my hold on the shackles. A cry burst from my lips.
Jasher dropped the axe and reached down to wrench now-flesh legs free of his metal boots, the last barrier. Free at last, he arrowed straight for me, swiping up one axe then its twin along the way. My vision righted as he drew back his elbows, intending to take my head.
I saw the act play out inside his irises, as if projecting his thoughts. Swing. Blood. Death.
A shovel slammed into the side of his head, flinging him aside. The weapons flew from his grip. My dad stood with the tool in hand, ready to strike again as Jasher regained his bearings and turned the full breadth of his fury onto the older man.
Half executioner, half monster, the man I loved now pawed at the dirt with supersized wings flared at his sides. Bony protrusions spiked from every joint.
“I suggest you dial it down a notch, creature,” my dad stated, shovel ready for another blow.
“I can already taste your death, human.” Jasher spit blood and laughed. His irises flared neon red. “Ash and flame.”
As I climbed to my feet, the two opponents launched at each other. Grunts and growls replaced ragged breaths. No, no, no. Ignoring every burst of pain, I slammed into Jasher, driving him to the ground.