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)
Too bad. Information about him was my catnip. I strode to the bag, withdrew the awful toy, and tossed it to Jasher. “Here, he’s all yours. Regifting isn’t allowed.”
Like the coin, he caught the toy with ease, then looked over his new “treasure.”
Watching him, my mind went quiet and my heart shed important defenses, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. This wasn’t attraction, though that was prevalent. This was…affection. The kind that snuck in while you were distracted. It lowered your weapons without permission and left you exposed to feelings before you even realized what happened. Maybe I’d packed the ridiculous toy for this very reason. Jasher might have been raised by Emma, but he’d never gotten to be a boy. He’d always been a clone with a purpose.
“I always wanted siblings,” I admitted. He’d shared something about his life; I could do no less. “I struggled to make friends, and I imagined my sisters and brothers would be forced to love me.”
Seconds passed in silence. Then, “They are worth every hardship.”
It was then, that moment, that we both remembered I’d forced him to kill one of his brethren. Tension snapped between us.
With a huff, he returned his attention to the toy. “Say something else, Kevin.”
Kevin obeyed. “You’re doing great. If I’m grading on a curve.”
My Tinman patted his head like a proud papa. “Such a good boy.”
I sighed and withdrew two stones. “Do you know what these are?”
Jasher cast me the barest glance before refocusing on Kevin. “You’ll have to let me examine them.” Bored tone.
A little too bored? Should I trust him? He did want to find the Ember.
“Maybe later.” I’d think about it. I returned the stones to the bag and withdrew the crumpled note, reading it again.
Kangaroos invade lava libraries. Mangoes adopt lost kittens; oceans moo. Ostriches rehearse. Donuts invent eclipses.
A code, yes. It must be. But what kind?
With a sigh, I tossed it back in and—gasped. The journal. Though I’d thrown it in a fire pit, it now occupied the same pocket as before, completely unharmed.
Breathing deep, I clutched the leather binding close. “How?” I asked it. Then I glanced at the crackling hearth and wondered…
Could the journal not be burned?
Maybe I should sit down and read while I had the chance, but curiosity got the better of me. If it had returned once; it might do so again, like Jasher’s axes. I needed to know. Needed to see how the pages reacted to flame.
Determined, I marched over, tossed the precious tome into the hearth, and watched.
“That could’ve gone worse,” Kevin said.
“Agreed,” Jasher replied. “I admit, I didn’t expect it.”
I floundered. The journal was absorbing the flames. Within seconds, the hearth no longer crackled. Only wood and ashes remained, the book resting unharmed atop the smoldering pile.
“That is…deeply unsettling.” I trembled as I freed the treasure from the rubble. Hot to the touch but not blistering. Pages untouched by the heat. There wasn’t even a streak of soot on a single page.
“Another unexpected twist.” Jasher examined it with new intensity. “It is as heat resistant as the monstra.”
Dazed, I glided to the bed and eased upon the foot. “Did you lie before? Is there magic in this land?” I traced my fingertip over the journal’s weathered cover. The leather, once rich and supple, had faded to a deep, earthy brown, as if darkened by age and use. Intricate embossing, now softened by centuries of handling, decorated the edges, depicting swirling vines. A tarnished metal clasp, adorned with a delicate engraving, secured the secrets within.
“I may be many terrible things, Moriah,” Jasher replied, flipping the coin once again, “but I’m not a liar.”
Spoken with such conviction, I couldn’t help but believe him. I slid my gaze to him and jolted. He’d set Kevin aside and now watched me, smoldering.
“There’s no magic in this world,” he reiterated. “Ask anyone.”
“But how did the book find me when I’d burned it?” I petted the journal’s cover and remembered how the hat had continually returned to me. “How did it eat those flames?”
“It’s marked, unbound by time or circumstance,” he said slowly. “Like my axes.”
“By who? What? How?”
His jaw tightened. “By you. The journal, not my axes. Mine were marked by someone else.” He said no more.
“Who?”
He flicked his tongue over an incisor. “Someone who aids Ian. I cannot speak the name.”
Interesting phrasing. “You are forbidden to speak their name, but you can give away your commander’s secrets without issue?” Not buying it.
“Believe it or not, princess, I want the time loops stopped, too.”
All right. I’d let go of the “mark.” For now. “Did Ian start the loops?” I asked point blank.
“Not to my knowledge. And since we’re speaking plainly: I think you started it. I have my suspicions about why.” His own shadow grew behind him, snuffing out any light. “Desire is involved. The kind that breaks worlds.”