Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Holy crap balls,” Dellacourt says, staring at the ground surrounding me. A perfect circle of burned grass formed when I finally let my power go. “You’ve already come into your power.”
My voice is still shaky. “I think we mentioned that.”
Dante points toward the woods where I can clearly see the line of fire I created when Bron seized my power.
“It could have been worse,” Lach says, handing me a blanket. “What the hell happened? I felt something. My power surged.” Lach looks back at the porch where the Harpers stand staring. “I am so sorry. Do you have a lot of bodies buried close by?”
“What?” Rye asks. Then he takes a startled step back, pulling his wife toward him.
A partially decomposed dog trots out of the woods, a large black dog running beside it.
“Quigley!” Rachel starts trying to run toward the black dog. “Get away from that thing!”
One of the younger Harper children, a boy I remember is named Patrick, steps forward. He can’t be more than seven, but he looks at his fathers with outrage. “That’s Queenie! You told us Queenie went to the city.”
His brother rolls his eyes. “Dummy, don’t you know that’s what Da says when one of the animals dies? He’s too chicken to tell you so he pretends he took it to the city. Queenie got into a bad patch of berries and got herself poisoned. Da buried her in the woods.”
“Well, it looks like Da was wrong.” Patrick starts to go out, but Rye holds him back.
I wrap the blanket around my body, my mind only half working. I look at my brother. Lach has gone a pasty white. The dog isn’t the only thing crawling back from wherever it was buried. There’s a horse skeleton prancing and whinnying.
“Buttercup?” Max says, with a smile on his face. “Damn, but I would know that gait anywhere. Look at you girl! You can still run. What the hell is happening?”
“Shim is a fire adept. It’s his special power.” Roan steps up, examining the ground beneath my feet. “Lachlan is a necromancer. They came into their powers in a unique fashion. They bonded, but from a distance.”
Dante nods. “They should have more control once a full bond is completed. But I don’t understand how it goes crazy like that. Did Shim mean to blow a path through the woods?”
“No. It was Bron,” I explain. “She was afraid, and then she was angry. She pulled the power out of me.”
Lach takes a deep breath. “And mine always flares when Shim’s goes crazy. I’m sorry. You’ll be reburying corpses for days.”
My head is starting to clear. I’m still shaky, but my ability to think and feel are coming back, and I don’t like what’s left. Lach helps me to the porch. “Something’s wrong with Bron.”
My brother leans over. “I know. I could feel a bit of it, but we have to get you calm and strong again before we rush off. Tell me what happened. I could feel it. I couldn’t see it. I never see it.”
I know my brother feels cut off, but I don’t have time to deal with that now. “It’s a jumble. I know she was trying to protect a brownie. A youngling, I think. Why was a guard trying to hurt a little brownie?”
Max Harper starts to walk out toward the corpse formerly known as Buttercup.
“Damn, Max.” Rye’s eyes widen and his skin pales.
Lach shakes his head. “The horse won’t hurt him. It doesn’t know it’s dead. Same with the dog.”
Rachel nods, and the kids, with the exception of Paige, run out to greet Queenie.
Rachel frowns, her eyes on her children. “You were told that Torin is systematically killing non-sidhe.”
I lean against the porch railing. “I guess I thought you were talking about goblins and ogres. You know, the rougher creatures. Brownies are helpful. Gnomes keep the gardens growing. How does Torin think he’ll feed everyone?”
“He doesn’t care,” Rye replies. “I have no doubt he’ll enslave a few, but he’ll think that a little starvation will keep the lower classes in line. We can’t rebel if we don’t have the energy to fight.”
“I don’t understand what he’s thinking.” I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Why would anyone want to upset the balance? It’s one thing to kill an ogre who threatens hundreds of villagers, quite another to systematically wipe them out. Ogres play a part, too. The same with pixies and even sluagh. They all serve a purpose. The flowers die without the pixies. The crops struggle without the gnomes. Ogres are predators who cull herds. And they’re living, thinking beings.
What’s happening with Bron?
“He called her a witch.”
Lach’s eyes go wide. “What?”
Rachel Harper takes a long breath. “What do you mean? You can really see her? Hear what’s happening to her?”
I nod. “It can be confusing, but I know what I heard. There was a man there. He was dressed in rich clothes. He was older. Bron didn’t like him. She was disgusted by him. He called her a witch, and then the connection was gone. I think she’s unconscious.”