Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
“Keep close,” Casteel said. “Just in case.”
I nodded as we entered a sunlit hall. Through the many windows, I could see tall cedars and the dark-gray buildings of the nearby dorms. We entered another area, and I was immediately distracted by the dozen or so statues lining the northern hall.
They were tall, towering at least eight feet high, and held shields shaped like teardrops against their chests, their swords pointed toward the ground. The statues had been carved from a nearly translucent stone that appeared to subtly shift through shades of blue and green as we passed. It reminded me of moonstone, but the moment that thought entered my mind, I remembered what kind of stone it was.
Liminite.
Surprise scuttled through me. Similar to limestone but with the appearance of moonstone, liminite was a rare stone once mined from the southernmost point of the Elysium Peaks. My brows knitted. And if I remembered what was said about it, it had once been used in the burial rites of royalty from long-gone kingdoms.
The fact that it was so rare to see liminite wasn’t what drew my attention and held it, however.
While the statues were incredibly detailed, even down to the fingernails on the hands grasping their swords, their faces were smooth and devoid of any features.
And that was, well…creepy.
Not only that, the featureless faces reminded me of the dakkais.
I’d only seen the stone once as a child—in the Queen’s Garden. There was a statue of a mother holding her babe made of such stone. As we passed closer to one, I lifted my arm—
Casteel captured my wrist. “Why,” he said, his voice low but light with amusement, “must you touch everything?”
My lips pursed. “As I’ve said before, I’m a tactile person.”
“If you need to feel something up, I have something you can get all kinds of tactile with later,” he remarked, causing my cheeks to flame. “And I believe you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I so did.
Letting go of my hand, he steered us toward the middle of the hall. I scowled at the fact that the statues were now out of my reach.
“I didn’t want to feel it up,” I muttered, shooting him a scathing look. His answer was a chuckle.
“This way,” Reaver said, guiding us toward a hall to our right.
Through the windows lining the hall, I caught glimpses of the white walls of one of the dormitories as Casteel trailed his hand down the middle of my back. It would be nice to come to a point where those buildings could be used to house people not training to make war.
“Have you told her about those who have come to Wayfair every day to see her?” Reaver asked as we passed several closed doors.
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
Casteel cursed. “No, I haven’t.”
Reaver chuckled.
“What is he talking about?”
“Nothing,” Casteel maintained with a smile.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“Rumors of you being a god have spread,” Reaver explained despite Casteel looking at him like he wanted to kick him through the wall.
That wouldn’t happen because I was about to kick him through a wall. “Neither you nor Kieran mentioned that.”
“Because it’s not a big deal.”
“Then why have they come?” I demanded.
“To pay you homage,” Reaver answered.
My mouth dropped open.
“They have left gifts. Tokens.”
“What?” I whispered, glancing at Casteel, watching the muscle tick in his jaw.
“Coins. Flowers. Their babes’ blankets. Candles and figurines,” Reaver rattled off. “Someone left a pig.”
“A…a pig?”
“A live pig.” He sent a frown over his shoulder. “Not sure why.”
“Perhaps they learned of your love for bacon,” Casteel remarked.
“But why would they leave a live pig?” I asked. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
His gaze slid to mine, and the color of his eyes warmed like pools of golden amber. “How do you think you end up with bacon?”
“I know how bacon gets made,” I told him. “I just don’t like to think about it.”
Reaver stopped in front of a door. “Pigs are very intelligent, emotional creatures.”
“Oh, my gods,” I muttered as he opened the heavy iron door, letting out a rush of cool, musty air. “I don’t want to think about that or the fact that anyone is leaving me gifts. They don’t need to do that, and they especially don’t need to leave me coin. Can we find out who has left that and return it to them?”
“Unlikely,” Reaver said, descending the gas lamplit stairwell.
Casteel sighed and let go of my hand. “Are you sure you like him?”
“Yes.” Reaver’s voice echoed from around the bend in the stairs. “She is sure.”
I grinned and trailed my fingers along smooth walls the color of cracked pepper.
“Careful,” Reaver warned. “The last step is steep.”
I felt Casteel’s hand on my lower back. The slight weight was comforting. Reaching the last step, I saw that Reaver hadn’t been joking. There was about a foot difference between the step and the floor. I hopped down.