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)
“You’ll show me?” I ask, but then she’s gone. The branches she moved for me remain parted, as if the forest itself is inviting me to come deeper.
“Go, Jas,” I whisper. “Just go.”
Each step is a battle with my body and my mind, but I put one foot in front of the other until I’m standing before a soaring redwood, the promised burrow waiting at its base.
I slide my iron dagger from my side and fall to my knees.
Dropping my glowstone in the leaves, I take a breath, brace myself, then plunge my hand inside the burrow until it collides with a mass of soft fur.
Move quickly. Do not hesitate.
I grip my dagger in my hand, preparing to strike, and grab the creature. I wrench it from its den, but as I hold it in front of my face and prepare to plunge the blade into its chest, I freeze.
The wolpertinger is nothing more than a ball of fluff with a flat face, floppy ears, and a long tail that coils around my wrist. Its tiny tongue darts out and licks my palm, and round, innocent brown eyes blink up at me.
A sob surges up my throat and I make myself shove it back down.
Life gives life. Do this for your sister. Do this for all the souls who would be tortured under Mordeus’s rule.
I ready my blade and the ball of fluff begins to vibrate in my hand, like a purring cat.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
It opens its little mouth, as if to beg for its life, and the purring vibration intensifies until I can barely hold on. In the next moment, it shifts, and all the fluffy hair turns to spikes digging into my flesh, its soft brown eyes glow green and angry, and long fangs shoot out from its gaping maw.
It surges for my neck.
The spikes pierce my skin and my grip goes slippery with my own blood, but I hold tighter, bring my dagger to its throat, and slice, hard and fast.
The creature goes limp in my hand, soft and furry again. Was it ever anything else?
I can’t let myself wonder. I need to finish what I’ve started.
I drag the blade down and rip the creature’s tiny heart from its chest, thrusting it to my lips before I can think better of it. The first taste of its blood—coppery and salty, with an underlying sweetness too much like decaying fruit—is almost enough to make me abandon this mission, but I force myself to bite into the tough muscle. Blood squirts hot and viscous onto my tongue, and I gag.
Drink. You have to drink.
The words sound like they’re coming from Fherna. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or my memory or if this horrible act has made me lose my grip on reality, but I obey. Every swallow is easier as the weakness and misery of the ring’s curse ebbs. I need this strength. I need to find Mordeus.
Only when I’ve sucked the gristly muscle dry do I let myself stop. I drop it to the ground and then lie down beside the soft carcass of the wolpertinger, and I cry, big, jagged sobs that are gobbled up by the trees around me.
I’m stronger, and I’m not afraid of anything in this forest as much as I am of myself, as I am of what I’ve become.
I want to see Kendrick.
It’s risky and pointless, but I don’t care.
I don’t know if Death’s coming tonight—when I intend to get that sword and use it to kill Mordeus—or in a week, when my bargain for the ring will bring me to the end of my life. But I feel her hovering, her fingers a handsbreadth away, ready to steal the very breath from my lungs.
I ask Gommid to take me to Kendrick. I just want to see him one more time. I just want to say goodbye.
“He’s here?” I ask when the world materializes around us again. We’re in the gardens behind the Midnight Palace.
“Kendrick the Chosen is inside. He’s taken the chambers next to yours, but you’ll have to take yourself there. As threats have escalated, your sister has warded the whole palace against goblin travel.”
I knew Kendrick had spoken with my sister, but I didn’t expect he’d be staying here. “Thank you, Go—”
But he’s already gone.
The palace is buzzing tonight, the doors to the ballroom stand open and torches glow on every terrace, revealing the partygoers who mingle and sip on faerie wine. Something tugs hard in my chest at the normalcy of it all. This is what my sister’s life should look like—palace balls and hundreds of guests who adore her.
Every pair of eyes locks on me as I head inside. Gommid said she warded the palace against goblin travel. He didn’t say anything about her warding against me. She said she wouldn’t, and yet as I head into the palace I find myself hoping that she did more to protect herself than she promised when I woke up in her chambers.