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)
“We’ll stay here for the night,” he says, probably noting the confusion on my face. He collapses onto an upholstered chair and looks me over, something like worry and relief in his expression. “We both need rest.”
Chapter Six
Jasalyn
I lean against the infirmary door and choke back a sob.
Kendrick won’t remember any of that, and I should be glad. I should call my goblin and go back to the cottage where I’ve been sleeping and see if I can stay another day to sleep off this weakness.
And then what? How am I going to find the sword now if only Mordeus knows its location? And if I can’t find him and end him, what was the point of any of this? If he lives and I die, then the only thing my sacrifice brought me was the very thing I would’ve laid down my life to avoid.
I wish I could talk to Abriella. She would know what to do.
The ache is so sudden and so strong, I nearly fall to the ground.
I had three years with her at the Midnight Palace where I avoided her at every turn. I did everything I could to avoid looking at her or talking with her or even being near her.
Now the risen sun means I have ten days left and I want time with my sister more than anything.
“Jasalyn?”
I jerk my head up and see Natan walking toward me, his hair tied back, his glasses glinting in the morning light. For a moment, I forget about the ring, forget that he’ll be under my spell, and a combination of panic and gratitude fills my heart. Panic because I shouldn’t be here. Gratitude because I’d missed him without realizing it. Natan, Remme, even Skylar—they all became my friends during my time with Kendrick.
“You look upset,” he says. “How can I help?”
I shake my head and rush down the infirmary steps before he can open the door. I don’t want Kendrick to see me. “I was just leaving.”
He frowns. “We’ve been looking for you. Are you safe? Have you seen Kendrick?”
Usually people are so enamored with the Enchanting Lady that they forget anything that’s been on their mind. It doesn’t mean Natan’s not under my spell, but he’s definitely resisting it. His conscious mind is pushing to the forefront despite the ring’s lure. “I saw him,” I admit.
He beams. “And you’re staying?”
“No. Natan, I . . .” I scan the quiet roads around the Ironmoore square. “Are you staying here?”
He shakes his head. “No. Our team left the village not long after you disappeared.”
Last time I was here, the place was half charred from the wyvern attack. Now the destroyed buildings have been torn down but few have been erected in their place. This is why Kendrick and his friends wanted my help. Their oracle showed Kendrick an image of me slaying the wicked Patriarch of the Seven that rule Elora. It gave them hope for the future of a realm that has had little for a very long time.
They will have to find another way.
“I’m only here because I sensed Kendrick was,” he says. His forehead wrinkles with thought and his glance skips back to the building behind me. “You brought him to the infirmary. Is he okay?”
I swallow. “He will be.”
“And you?” When he asks this, I realize he’s avoiding my gaze. It doesn’t eliminate the Enchanting Lady’s power completely, but it lessens the effect. Knowing Natan, he’s probably learned everything there is to know about enchanted rings in the last eight months and he’s using that knowledge to his advantage.
“I’m fine.” That might’ve been believable if I didn’t choke on the word. With a final glance toward the infirmary, I start walking. I don’t want to repeat my reunion with Kendrick if he comes out those doors again.
Natan follows—whether because he wants to talk to me more or because he’s compelled by the ring, I’m not sure, but I don’t question it. I might as well use his company to my advantage.
“Kendrick told me that no one but Mordeus knows where the sword is, but I need to find it or find another way to get to him.”
“You’re running out of time.” It’s not warning or censure. It’s said in a tone of understanding, something close to sympathy that makes tears prick my eyes. “But even if you only have days left, I don’t want you risking your life to go after Mordeus. None of us want that.”
“So I’m supposed to just . . . what? Enjoy my last ten days of life without worrying about the consequences of what I’ve done? You just want me to let it all go?”
His throat bobs. “I don’t want that either. Mordeus will be too powerful once he takes over your body.”
The world spins a little and I have to dig my nails into my palms to steady myself. “Say that again.”