Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“The only ruin I foresee is yours.” Working my jaw, I sauntered off as if his prediction wasn’t echoing inside my head, a harbinger’s shriek. As if I didn’t see Taron’s image flicker in front of me. As if the professor didn’t say, “Come. Find me.”
I quickened my pace only when I cleared the dungeon.
Another sleepless night filled with thoughts of Taron preceded the second morning. When the sun rose, its pale light bled through my windows and painted my bedroom walls in gold and shadow.
Desperate for a distraction, I joined the soldiers guarding our southern traveling stones. The kind of distraction that drew blood rather than memories.
Success!
Three of Lorik’s soldiers slipped through the veil, each carrying sacks that reeked of sulfur and smoke. Commander Hoffmann spotted them first, his sharp whistle splitting the morning calm.
The chase was on. Over dew-slick hills, through the tall whispering grass, and into the marsh where the air hung heavy with rot.
Two of the three died at the hands of my soldiers, but I caught the last before he made anything go boom.
Mud caked my boots, and my hair clung to my damp face on the walk back to camp. The tang of iron filled my mouth. By the time I dropped his limp, blood-slicked body at Commander Hoffmann’s feet, my limbs trembled from the effort.
My breath steamed in the morning chill. “Put him in the palace catacombs, with full sensory deprivation protocols.” Total isolation would ensure we got answers before Lorik even knew he’d lost three men. “Once we have the information we need, pike all their heads and hearts near the stones.”
“Ja, my queen.” Commander Hoffmann bound the prisoner in chains and secured him in a rolling cage. “But first, a word of warning. My father intends to ambush you and push for our marriage.” He heaved a sigh. “I cannot apologize enough.”
I patted his shoulder. “Marriage requests and murder plots before breakfast. It must be Tuesday.”
Relief softened his expression. He nodded in response, then hauled the unconscious shifter away.
I remained in place for a moment, pensive. How had our enemy snuck through the stones? My army guarded every entry point both inside and outside of Ashmorra twenty-four seven.
Did Taron have a hand in this, too?
I breathed deep. More and more, Lorik—and Taron himself—were becoming sharper thorns in my paw.
When I returned to the palace, Adelaide greeted me at the front door with a new cup of tea infused with extra, extra gelu root. I braced for whatever she had to say. “Just tell me.”
She winced. “So…. I’ve discovered a tidbit about the Yrnblade.”
I drained the cup. “And?”
“And I think it’s some type of conduit. The one who is cut begins to behave as though struck by Cupid’s arrow. The wielder experiences a similar transformation, only far more intense. Beyond that, the details remain unclear.”
So Cedric hadn’t lied. I thought back to his whirlwind affair with Nyla. His frenzy to always have her within sight. Her constant jealousy and eagerness to harm anyone who so much as looked at him had been even worse. Doomed…
Had Taron experienced unexpected symptoms since the stabbing?
Urgency whipped at my back. I must know.
But there was only one way to find out.
I shot off like a bullet.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” my sister called with amusement as I ascended a flight of stairs. She suspected my intention to confront the mortal.
“To clean up,” I muttered without slowing. It was the truth, though not all of it.
An-n-nd Councilman Roland waited for me at my bedroom door. Great. The promised marriage push. “How may I help you, councilman?” I asked as I approached.
“I’d like to meet with your father and—”
“Nein,” I interjected, surprised by the request. Cedric specialized in using his gaze and words to spread poison. I didn’t need more trouble added to my list. “Only my sisters and I share his blood, making us immune to his tricks.” Mostly. “Only we may speak with him. That isn’t up for negotiation.”
A muscle jumped in Roland’s jaw. “I can get answers from him. Answers we need.”
“You think to negotiate with our betrayer? That he’ll be truthful?”
The councilman jutted his chin. “I failed to stop him once before. I won’t fail again.”
Determination, guilt and half a dozen other emotions lay behind his words. For this first time, I could understand his motivation. Not power but atonement.
“My father is simply too dangerous. My answer is and will remain nein,” I reiterated, slipping past him.
“My son—”
“Isn’t up for discussion either.” I entered my bedroom and shut the door behind me, wiping the councilman from my mind.
After a quick, hot shower, I changed into my most human clothing: jeans and a T-shirt that read “Royal Pain in the Ash,” a gift from my sister Bronwyn. Combat boots and weapons followed. Within seconds, I was sprinting for the balcony, diving into the air and unfurling my smokewings.