Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“I’ve never heard of such a power.”
“You’re given a memory in a dream when you take another’s shape, right?” he asks, and I nod. “Well, I think this is a variation of that power. It takes the memory, the history, and spins in a different direction.”
“That’s . . . fascinating.”
“It makes a weird sort of sense to me,” he says. “For instance, you know how when you get your dream, it can be different than what the person remembers?”
I frown. “It can?”
He nods. “Well, yes. Our memories are imperfect. They’re an impression of that moment that’s obscured by all the things we’re thinking and feeling at the time. But what an Echo gets in the dream isn’t really a memory so much as a recounting of the event as if we’re reliving it. The Echo is aware of the subject’s emotions while also seeing the truth of it.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. “Konner, that’s it.”
“What’s wrong?”
My mind races as I mentally recount the words from my dream over and over. I have to be sure. If I’m wrong, it could be catastrophic. “I dreamed of the day Jas gave the Grimoricon to the witch and finalized their bargain.”
“She misremembered the terms, didn’t she?”
Offer your meals when you have no meals and you give nothing. Offer your life when you have no life and you give nothing.
My stomach flips with nerves and adrenaline and hope. “I need to find the princess.”
Chapter Forty
Jasalyn
“Turn your attention inward,” Pretha says, focusing so intently on me I wish I’d never gotten out of bed this morning.
It was late when Kendrick escorted me to my chambers, and when he tried to say good night and leave for his own, I pulled him inside.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked as I pulled his tunic off. And I understood why. When we found out Crissa was alive, I’d pushed him away again, too afraid my own existence would ruin everything for him. But last night, with my birthday looming so close and the ring of the Banshee’s cry still echoing in my ears, I didn’t have it in me to be selfless, didn’t have it in me to sacrifice the little time I have left with him in favor of some noble act that may never matter anyway.
So he stayed, and we said everything that needed saying with our hands and mouths and bodies. It was beautiful and sad and comforting and painful. It was everything it needed to be.
When I woke up in his arms this morning, I should’ve stayed there. Should’ve ignored the knock on my door and insisted we ignore the world.
One more day.
That’s all I have. I don’t want to spend it here, failing tremendously as Pretha tries to get me to tap into my power, to find this supposed “inner fire” I need to activate my phoenix.
“Just focus on that kernel of flame deep inside of you and draw it out to your fingertips,” she says.
I stare at my fingertips, search for a flame that isn’t there, and will fire to flare from my skin nevertheless. Nothing happens. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Brie says, stopping her incessant pacing behind me. She’s trying not to smother me, but she’s definitely hovering. “We’ll keep trying.”
I want to ask why. We haven’t found a way around the bargain, so my ability to wield my phoenix is irrelevant. When I close my eyes and turn my attention inward this time, I’m not searching for flame but for patience.
“Jas!”
I look up to see myself running into the room. Not me, Felicity. Does her gift give her my abilities when she’s in my skin? Maybe she could tell me where to find this kernel of flame that supposedly burns inside me.
“The deal you struck with the witch,” she says, breathing hard like she ran here. “I think you misremembered the wording.”
All eyes in the room turn to her. My sister rushes to her side, and my heart sinks. Don’t give her false hope.
“You dreamed of that day,” Brie says. “The day she made the deal.”
Felicity turns to me. “The witch said you would ‘forfeit your immortal years by surrendering this life of yours on the eighteenth anniversary of your birth.’ That is what you agreed to.”
I bow my head, shame burning hot in my cheeks. “Sounds about right.”
Pretha drags in a shocked breath, and I’m not sure why because they already knew this.
Brie looks back and forth between me and the me-who-isn’t-me.
I release a ragged breath. Why does it matter? “I guess I don’t remember the exact words.”
“Eighteenth anniversary of her birth . . .” Pretha presses her fingers to her lips. “You think that if she ends her life before her birthday, by the terms of the deal, he can’t take over.”
“That’s not an option,” Kendrick says at the same time as my sister says, “I’m not letting her give up until we know without a doubt—”