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)
Nothing I could do about this Malkom guy. But Ian? He was going down.
“Tinman is your responsibility,” Ahav said. “Any damage he causes will be laid at your door. You will bear the consequences.”
Unfair. “His actions are his, mine are mine, and yours are yours.”
“Yes, and you let him go. What he does now is on you.” He dropped his chin, gaze pinned on me. “Did anyone tell you it’s dangerous to argue with a king?”
My shoulders rolled in. Sighing, he plucked a leaf from a tree and strode over.
Side by side, we looked out at the water, a momentary reprieve from heartbreak.
“The vision you had yesterday,” he said. “You called Ian evil. Explain what you saw. Please.”
Very well. “Perhaps it was the same attack I saw today. A village burned with monstra fire, as people ran screaming. Then the scene morphed, and Ian laughed. He held a large, glowing emerald. Then he stabbed me.” The sensation of being cut followed my words, and I winced. To ground myself in reality, I removed my boots and socks and sat, easing my feet into the cool flow of water. Yes, much better.
“So now we hunt an Ember, who is a woman, as well as an emerald that glows?” He sat beside me, though he kept his boots on and away from the river.
“Maybe the emerald contains the Ember’s power.” By fair means or foul.
“That would mean her power is transferable.” He massaged his nape. “An interesting concept.”
Yes. I had an idea. “What if the emerald is marked to her—or Ian—and hides itself from everyone else? Like my journal always hides from you.”
“Marked?” His brows drew together. “Oh, you mean galemarked.”
I hadn’t, but now I wondered. “Explain the difference.”
“Galemarking,” he said slowly, “binds an object so completely, it can never truly leave its owner. Despite distance. Despite time.”
“Okay, yes, I meant galemarked. Ian has or will have the emerald. We find him, we should find the Ember.”
“Then we find Ian.” Daggers undergirded Ahav’s determination. He would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.
I shifted gears. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but in this time loop, mere days from now, you die in monstra fire.” Not months, considering my mother’s pregnancy wasn’t too far along when she made it to Kansas.
“I see.” Other than stare at the water, Ahav gave no reaction.
“There’s something else. Andrea, Morris’s first wife, is the Ember. That, I know. The rest is pure speculation, but here goes. I believe she used too much of its power, and that’s what killed her. But Morris used special shells to bring her back to life. Eventually. The collapse of the catacombs possibly trapped her in rubble. If Ian’s father found her during the restoration and hid her from everyone but his son, Ian could’ve used her power to create the monstra anew, kicking off the time loop.” I reached for the journal, intending to show him a passage, but of course, the tome wasn’t in the pack.
Moving on. “Ian could have her chained somewhere, waiting to find and use the emerald to drain the Ember from her. Or he’s got the emerald, and he’s hunting her. And I promise I’m not being deliberately confusing. I only have pieces of the story.”
He thought for a moment. Nodded. “I’m glad to have those pieces.”
Good. “Let me search for Ian without you. Go home. Stay with the queen. Stay safe,” I pleaded. This man, my bio-dad, was the linchpin. Save him, and we could save the others. He knew Ian—the original Ian—better than anyone. Only with him could we win this war.
“I will not turn back,” he said, stubborn.
Maybe I could offer him another vision. But as I probed my mind, loud, blaring sounds blasted from the camp. My blood iced.
He popped to his feet, blade in hand. “The monstra come. Hide, Oracle. You are our best weapon.”
My chest locked up as he rushed off. I didn’t understand. We weren’t in a village filled with people. This wasn’t right. Didn’t fit my vision.
Maybe I should hide, as ordered, but training or madness drove me onward. I snatched up my bag and sprinted for camp. My ring still hadn’t reappeared, but my ring finger blistered, a molten pulse reminiscent of what I’d once wielded. Power. Fire. Victory. I extended my arm, summoning my sword of flame with everything in me…
No sword, but golden armor flickered across my body, guttered, then vanished.
“Stay!” I snarled but the metal did not reappear.
Fine. It didn’t matter. I had daggers and the rocks; I wasn’t without weapons.
Chaos reigned all around. Soldiers barked instructions and sprinted through thick, cloying smoke. Men fought to free the pegacorns; others ducked beneath the canopy draped over spearpoints. The king crouched among them, features cut from stone as he issued orders. Intermixed through it all were screaming, running people. Except, they were transparent, as if they were being projected from the past.