Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
They smell like campfire smoke and fresh soil. I hold my breath, wondering when they last had a bath. Maybe never.
Once they’re out of sight, I race up the rest of the spiraling stone staircase, desperate to find out what is happening. The large bang, the crumbling wall, Garrick’s apparent unease, and now the sudden appearance of these wolf shifters—I’m wondering if it’s all connected.
I take a deep breath as I reach the large wooden doors of my father’s office. I can feel the unease of the two guards posted in front of the door. These two usually greet me with a smile and a kind word. The cute one—Margus—is even a little flirty, which I pretend to hate, but I secretly enjoy. Today, they’re unnaturally quiet as they lower their eyes and open the door.
When I enter the large room with the giant fireplace, plush rugs, stunning art, and my father’s massive oak desk in the middle, I feel like a child again—helpless, vulnerable, and scared. My mother is crying. My father is hugging her, and—my stomach sinks further when I see that he is crying too.
To me, and to all of the kingdom, my parents are like the Wilderwall—solid, unwavering, impenetrable. They keep us safe. They are our rock. I’ve never seen them like this. I’ve never seen either of them cry.
“Corwin,” Mother whispers when she sees me. She slips out of my father’s arms and wipes her red cheeks. More tears take their place.
“Oh. Vaela,” Father says, forcing out a smile. “Did you have a nice ride this morning?”
I just stare at them as my mind races with questions I’m afraid to hear the answers to.
“What is going on?” I ask in a shaky voice.
Mother looks at Father and bursts into a fresh wave of tears. She turns away, hiding her face in her hands.
“Father?” I ask.
The wooden doors close behind me with an echoing bang, causing me to jump in fright.
“My Vaela,” he says softly as he walks around his desk and comes up to me. He takes my hands in his and smiles sadly at me.
I look up into his kind blue eyes and see the heartbreak behind them. I adore my father. He’s the kindest, smartest man I’ve ever met. I love everything about him from his long curly gray hair and the thick beard to match, to his jolly laugh, to the way he sings me the soft, sad songs his mother sang to him.
“We’ve had many good years of peace and prosperity here in Aurevale,” he says, his puffy red eyes drifting away with a sad air of nostalgia. “The Wilderwall has kept us hidden and safe.”
I swallow hard as I picture that hole in the ancient wall. The impenetrable wall that now has a missing chunk taken out of it.
“But unfortunately, the other eight kingdoms on the other side of the Wilderwall… They do not know peace like we do. Especially in the wild north.”
I shudder when I think about the old stories children share of the Hollowborn. The feral remnants of a cursed race, they are unnaturally tall, thin creatures with pale skin, black veins, and elongated claws dripping with venom. For years, I had nightmares of their red eyes glowing in the darkness. I was terrified that they would break through the thick wall that held them back for centuries and come devour my heart while I slept.
My mother would hug me, kiss my sweaty forehead, and tell me it was only my vivid imagination playing tricks on me. That the Wilderwall would keep me safe.
“But we’re safe,” I say, searching my father’s eyes for the truth. “From the Hollowborn?”
His eyes drop. My stomach drops along with them.
“Father?”
He glances at Mother and then takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Parts of the Wilderwall are crumbling.”
“What?” I gasp. I know it’s true—I’ve seen it with my own eyes—but somehow, hearing it from Father is much worse.
“It should have been repaired and reinforced by my great-grandfather,” he says, cursing under his breath. “It has been ignored by all of my ancestors, including my father. Including me.” He breathes in long and hard. “It cannot be ignored any longer.”
“So, we’ll fix it,” I say with my pulse racing. “The best carpenters and craftsmen in all of the nine kingdoms live in Aurevale. We can fix it, right?”
His mouth tightens into a straight line. “You are no longer a child, Vaela, so I will be direct and honest with you. We have kept you in the bubble of your innocence for as long as we could, but that time is over. You will be thrust into womanhood sooner than we would have liked.”
I feel the blood leaving my face as I look at Mother’s sobbing shoulders.
“We have sent out repair crews,” he says with a hint of fear in his voice. “They do not return.”