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)
Twigs snap under my boots and an owl calls in the distance, but the area is otherwise eerily silent. This kind of silence in this part of the capital at night isn’t natural, and I have to wonder if protective wards have been erected around the sword to scare even the insects away.
After I’ve been hiking long enough that I’m questioning my memory, I finally spot the roofline of the shack. As I creep closer, I hear it—the low wheeze and whoosh of an animal’s breathing.
So the wards haven’t scared away all the creatures.
I still can’t see more than a few inches in front of my face, so I can only use my ears to navigate around the creature. I’m close. I can’t explain it, but I can feel the sword calling to me, can feel the lure of the snapping flames and the waves of heat. I don’t want to detour too far. Then again, I don’t want to bother a sleeping animal I can’t see either. I turn to my left, but my foot snags on a branch and before I can get my balance I’m stumbling to my hands and knees on the forest floor.
A heavy harrumph comes from my right, and then a cry so loud the forest seems to split in two around me. The creature’s close enough now that I can hear it breathing—a snorting inhale and wet exhale that reminds me of a sleeping dog. But I already know this is no dog. It’s big enough to be—
A line of fire barrels toward me, and I roll onto my side to dodge it, then lie on the ground staring at the scorched earth beside me. I can’t stop shaking. Why did I think this would be so simple? Wasn’t the disaster at Feegus Keep enough to remind me that my ring can’t do anything to help me against monsters? I’m foolish enough to deserve the painful end I’m sure is coming for me.
Stand up, Jasalyn. Take a breath and stand up.
I grab the fallen limb behind me and hoist myself over to the opposite side, ducking behind it as I draw my sword from my back.
A sword against a fire-breathing monster. I’m as good as dead.
I remove my dagger from my thigh and spin it in the air above my head before blindly hurling it toward the dark form hulking toward me. The sharp cry that pierces the air tells me I’ve hit my target. I just don’t know how well.
It roars again, and this time when fire bursts from its lungs, it’s directed at the sky. That’s when I see it. Them? So much like the death dogs in the basement of Feegus Keep—except this one has three heads. Right, and breathes fire.
I drop behind the limb again, but I’m too late. The head on the right spotted me.
The creature lunges, swiping at me with claws the size of my head. I retreat but not fast enough, and one of those claws finds purchase in my thigh, digging in and tearing into leather and flesh as it cuts through me. Pain radiates from my thigh and out to every inch of my being. With a scream, I scramble away before it can land another blow.
I wish I were like my sister. I wish I weren’t so utterly human and had even a little magic at my disposal. But all I have on my side is my size, my ability to move through a forest with such dense trees and undergrowth.
When the monster opens its mouth again, I know this time he will strike home with its flames. I don’t let myself think or hesitate.
I run.
I pump my legs as hard as I can, ignoring the searing pain in my wounded thigh as I weave through the narrowest openings in the trees to force the three-headed beast to find another path to get to me. Its angry roars follow me and then slip farther away.
When I sense I’ve put enough distance between us, I strip off my vest and press it against my bloody thigh before hanging it on a branch above me. I cut away the bloodiest part of my pants, then do the same with that fabric, leaving it on a tree just a little deeper in the woods. I can’t block my scent, but I can scatter it—confuse the monster before I take a different path.
Only when I see it turning toward my lures do I circle back, following that inexplicable pull toward the closed-up hut—toward the sword—through the dense underbrush.
By the time I reach the dilapidated building, the pain in my leg is so intense I can’t make out the sound of the three-headed creature in the woods anymore. All I can hear is my weakening heartbeat and the labored whoosh of my breathing.