Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Nicostratus mutters, fire blooming in his hands.
“Don’t hurt them!” I plead. “Just keep them back.”
As he raises a shield of flame, one lunges forward, claws scratching down the barrier. Nicostratus shifts his stance, fire blooming brighter in his palms. Another wolf leaps forward, and Nicostratus pushes out his fire shield. The wolf collapses mid-air, yelping as it falls to the ground.
“Careful!” I call as I kneel by the wounded wolf, murmuring soothing words as my magic flows. Its wounds close, the skin knitting cleanly. Behind me, Nicostratus is a series of swishes and the snapping of boots against stone.
Wolves growl, desperate, until they’re reduced to mournful whines.
In the corner of my eye, I notice a steaming crack and the cocoon husks nearby. I reach for the blackened lump, but my stomach sinks—just fungi. Not immortal bone. Still. Valuable. Useful. As I pocket it, Nicostratus steps close, grabs me by the waist and soars us out of the cave. Silhouetted trees blur beneath us, their branches scraping under my boots. My stomach lurches, the ground dizzyingly far down.
“Was it worth the risk?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I reply, trying to meet his gaze but being rather preoccupied by the long drop below. “It’s not Immortal Bone, but it’s rare enough. And I owe someone a debt.”
“Someone?” Nicostratus asks.
“He saved my life. Could we . . .” I point earthward, but Nicostratus doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s frowning.
“What’s the name of this hero?” he asks.
“Ground!”
“Name?”
“Quin!”
“Family name?”
I laugh and clutch him when my footing slips from the thin branch. “We’re not that close.”
“You’re giving him amorous fungi!”
I shake my head wildly. “He owns a dance house!”
Nicostratus relaxes and in a gliding rush he sweeps us from the treetops to the blessed ground. “I am, of course, grateful he saved you.”
I side-eye him. “Are you?”
“Yes. However . . .” His knuckles bump along mine with a lingering touch that sends my heart skittering. My breath catches, and the world tilts with a panic in my chest that I can’t explain.
Panic? Or excitement?
His lips find mine, and it’s distracting, but questions churn just under his touch. Is this what I’ve run away from my marriage to find? Is this a truth unmasking itself?
Or is this an illusion; something to trap me again?
I keep touching my lips—until, the next morning, Akilah’s sharp snap of fingers drags me back to reality.
She shakes her head, and I wobble up a grin.
“I’m guessing this has something to do with your late-night escapades?” she teases, one brow arched.
“How did you know?”
“You weren’t as sneaky as you thought. I tried to follow you—until I tripped over Florentius in the yard. He landed in a muddy puddle and I’ve never seen anyone so horrified in my entire life.” Her laugh is infectious. “I couldn’t stop giggling, even after he—”
Her story is cut short when an akla arrives, summoning me to Frederica’s study. My heart quivers as I see a letter in her hand, bearing a seal—my father’s seal. I tear the letter open and unfold the brief message. I had sent word right after the first shake, to let my family know I was safe and to inquire about their well-being.
My breath catches as I read: nothing to worry about, but Mother hit her head during the shake.
Panic surges through me.
He didn’t help Lucetta. Would he have helped . . .?
“I need to go home,” I say urgently.
We leave within the hour. Nicostratus offers to ferry us back to the capital and I’m thankful, beyond thankful. He’s saved me again. He’s always saving me. Perhaps he is that someone I’ve wanted in my life. Someone kind, someone to trust. Yes. This must be what I want.
By late afternoon, I’m rushing up the busy canal bank.
“Cael,” Nicostratus calls, catching up.
“Sorry, I—”
“You’re worried about your mother.”
I nod, unable to speak.
“Go,” he says gently. “Meet me on the bell bridge during the lovelight festival. Six o’clock?”
I gulp and . . . nod. Then I sprint up the bank to the road.
Akilah struggles to keep pace, and I lose her at the gates. Two of my brothers are in the courtyard. They’re surprised to see me, but I ignore their calls and dash to my mother’s chambers.
The room is dim; draperies block the light. I shut the door quietly and approach her bed. Her face is pale except for a dark bruise on her forehead. I gently push her hair back and check her pulse. She’s been in and out of consciousness, enduring severe headaches.
Tears well up as I begin a medius spell for her head trauma, channelling it into the acupoints along her scalp. “Why did you marry him? Why leave your family, your kingdom, for this?”
She moans softly.
“Rest. Just rest.”
After ten minutes, her breathing begins to ease.
The door bursts open, and Father storms in. My anger flares, but I control it, finishing the spell.