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)
Viable anymore?
Located in Hakeldama?
When I swallowed the last bite, I grumbled, “Keep your secrets if you want.” I wouldn’t force him to spill, no matter how desperately I wished to. And I wouldn’t bargain, paying his price for answers.
He tipped his head, all innate grace and carnal indulgence. I caught myself fidgeting as his gaze bore into me, too intense and too different for my liking. Gooseflesh broke out. “Perhaps I’ll win you to my side.”
Oh dang. He’d just brought out the big guns. I decided to respond with nonchalance. “You’ll fail, but if you want to flirt a little, I probably wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m ten steps ahead of you, princess.” He snuffed out the fire. “I’m already flirting, and you’re already loving it.”
And dozens more goosebumps popped out.
Reclining against the tree again, Jasher tapped his claws against the dirt in a slow, predatory rhythm. Shadows rushed up to nuzzle his dusky skin, as he searched my face, cataloging every nuance.
“Do you remember the journal the Guardian kept locked away? The one he used to help him subjugate the whole kingdom?” Jasher asked, all casual curiosity. “I wonder if it’s the one you’re holding.”
Acid filled my stomach. What if I’d carried Ian’s weapon straight into his hands?
Footsteps pressed through dead leaves, reaching my ears. One set. Two. A cluster. Adrenaline rocketed through my veins, turning my limbs into tight springs. I shoved the journal into the pack and rushed to stand. Whether the approaching men were friends or foes didn’t matter. I must protect Jasher, my father’s thoughts, and the serpens-rosa. All valuable commodities many would kill to possess.
Cluck Cluck squawked.
Jasher’s expression cooled. He flexed his claws with the lazy menace of a cat. “Do not command me to hide or flee,” he warned, voice low. “I’ll obey, because I must, but I’ll also make you suffer in ways you cannot fathom.”
“Scary.” Decision time. Either I ordered him to follow me like a good boy, or I let him turn this little oasis into a battleground. No way the people, even innocent travelers, would pass him without a fight. They would fear and attack him.
The footsteps grew louder, pace increasing, twigs snapping.
He turned thoughtful. “Soldiers. Twenty-one of them. All armed. Better pick your path, princess.”
“And you still plan to sit here, inviting violence?” I whisper-yelled, swiping up my chicken and marching to Jasher, ready to shake sense into him.
Wink. “Consider it my gift to you.”
What did that mean? “I don’t want anyone else to die.”
“Then I’ll let them live. But you had better stand back. They have something we need for our new quest, and I’m going to get it.” A growl rumbled in his chest, making Cluck Cluck peck at me until I released her.
Off she ran, disappearing in the trees, wings tucked back.
Probably for the best, thanks to Jasher. I prayed she’d be smart enough to keep running. Be safe, my Cluck Cluck.
I glared at Jasher, blaming him for my newest loss. “Stay here if you insist.” Battleground for the win. I would mitigate the damage. Somehow. “But I’m hiding nearby.”
A plan brewing, I darted past him, entering the foliage behind his tree to conceal my presence from the interlopers.
“You’re going to miss the best parts of my performance,” Jasher called, his disappointment clear.
I dropped the backpack in the shadows and crouched. As quietly as possible, I tugged at the zipper. It moved as though it had never been stuck a day in its life. No resistance. Like it had decided I was finally worthy to look inside
I riffled through the contents, intending to confiscate whatever weapons I’d packed for myself. Surely a few daggers. Maybe a gun. Except…
You’ve got to be kidding! I’d packed a dozen or more fist-size black stones, the pointy black hat I’d worn during my first trip, and a small mechanical toy with movable limbs. It was shaped like a squat action figure, about the length of my hand, but wrong in a way I couldn’t immediately name. Half of him was made from dull tin, with exposed gears visible beneath a ribbed metal chest plate. The rest of him was cheap molded plastic.
“Hi, I’m Kevin, your unemotional support companion.” The toy’s mouth opened and closed with soft clicking sounds, tiny gears whirring behind a painted smile that never quite reached his monotone voice. “Press my buttons for a giggle.”
Scowling, I returned him to the pack and dug for anything else. Wait. A note. I withdrew it, hoping for some sort of explanation.
Kangaroos invade lava libraries. Mangoes adopt lost kittens; oceans moo. Ostriches rehearse. Donuts invent eclipses.
What in the—what? That was my handwriting and utter nonsense.
Never mind that past me had gotten an impossible message to current me. She’d left me with more questions and zero answers.
I crumbled the paper but dropped it back in the bag rather than toss it. And what even was that toy? Those stones? They reminded me of eggs.