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)
Okay. Noted. As long as I remained in the nest, forgoing any escape attempt, the monstra would keep their fire to themselves. Frustration swelled, but I swallowed it. I was well and truly trapped.
I’d have to find another way out of this. I hunkered down near the warmth of the still-burning hay, the faint orange light in sharp contrast to the dark, smoky sky. Minutes—hours?—passed.
Hoping to find a weakness or vulnerability, I watched the monsters. What I saw: power, unity, defenses.
My defeat.
I sniffled and hated myself for it.
When the moon sank, their numbers dwindled until only twenty were flying circles overhead. The ache in my shoulders worsened, the wounds seeping, draining more and more of what little of my strength remained. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for serpens-rosa. Without it, my muscles would give out as soon as I applied pressure.
Focus on the positives. I had my backpack and the stones, though they no longer glowed. Plus, I…
Had no other positives, I realized.
Hot tears welled, the horror of it all finally overwhelming me. First, I lost Jasher. Then Ahav?
What happened to him? To his soldiers? Did they blame me for the death toll? If they didn’t, they should. I blamed myself. Despite my vision, despite our precautions, the monstra had executed a flawless ambush I’d encouraged.
Eventually, the last of my adrenaline fizzled, and my heavy eyelids sank. Abused muscles grew lax, my head lulling, a dark sea sweeping me away…
Dreams came as they always did: sporadic flashes. The same visions I’d seen before, with differences.
Flash. Jasher stands behind Ian, who laughs and lifts the glowing emerald.
The image blinks in and out. Only a split second of darkness, but when it reappears, Ian is scowling. Rather than plunging a blade into my belly, he issues a command.
“Jump.”
And I obey.
Falling…
Impact—I’m standing amid a great battle. King Morris strides across a sea of dead bodies, his golden armor streaked with blood and soot. Sweat soaks his hair. He climbs a hill, monstra following him.
Another split second of darkness. Suddenly, Morris is Ahav, the helmet gone. Then he’s Morris again, the helmet in place. The two switch again and again, as if history is repeating itself.
At the top, he stops and spreads his arms, daring the monstra to act. They do. They douse him with fire.
I scream and suddenly, I’m clinging to an unscarred Elowen, sobbing into the hollow of her neck as she strokes my hair and coos assurances. “It’s all right. You’ll be all right. We will overcome.”
Blink. She’s scarred. And she’s dying.
A blast of light tears me from her embrace. I fight it.
Andrea hovers in the sky, wearing golden armor and flapping water wings. Monstra surround her, but she isn’t afraid. Isn’t even fazed when they fixate on her. The veil in front of her face thins enough for me to see her grin with delight. She extends her arm, a fiery sword materializing in her grip.
Mesmerized, I reach for it… Darkness. Light. I’m strapped down, struggling to gain freedom from a gurney, in a concrete room. An alarm blasts a split second before a water bomb explodes a wall and a woman walks through. She is horrific in her menace as she approaches me.
I grab hold of that last vision with all my mental might, clinging to it. Concentrating on the dust, pulling the vision closer. Closer still. Must learn more.
Moriah! Wake up!
The frantic call breaks through the haze. My own voice, shouting from the past. The future. Present?
I jolted awake with a gasp. The vision washed out, the world taking shape around me. I lay panting on hay, sweat coating my skin. Bright morning sunlight glared at me as I scanned the nest—foes.
The shadow siren and her companion watched me from the edge.
I clambered upright, ready to defend, but they were already gone.
Gradually, my heart rate plummeted, and the panic faded. It was then—that moment. I felt Elowen’s absence in the core of my being. What a comfort she’d been.
Shadows passed over me, and I looked up. Two monstra circled the nest, coming closer with each loop. My pulse leaped. Jasher, still only half shifted. The other flew beside him, fully transformed and double the size.
Ian, I’d put money on it.
I scrambled to my full height, every action a new lesson in agony. Right on time. The pair landed, one after the other. Jasher wore a tunic and leathers. The other shrank, shifting into his human form.
Oh, yes. Ian. Smirking. And naked. While tattoos covered Jasher, Ian possessed only one: a fist-size emerald, just over his heart.
The Guardian caught a tunic and a pair of pants dropped from the sky by a monstra flying by. He dressed slowly, deliberately, as if my fate wasn’t balanced at the tip of a blade.
“Welcome to Mount Emerald,” he said at last, fastening the last button. “My temporary home since fleeing the palace to avoid killing you in the Ring of Truth.” He winked. “You can thank your precious Tinman for that. He told me of Elowen’s warning.”