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)
Pretha’s waiting for us on the other side. “Are you okay?” she asks, looking her brother over. “Did you use too much magic?”
He cuts his gaze to me for a beat before looking back to his sister. “I’m fine. Is the healer on her way?”
Pretha takes in my arm and cringes. “I’ll hurry her along.” She slips out of the room, leaving me and Misha alone.
He rolls his shoulders as if his whole body is feeling the effects of draining so much magical energy. And his sister was worried about him using too much?
This is the same male who moved us from the caves deep beneath Castle Craige and to my room in a blink. The same male who conjured a whole thunderstorm just to show off for me and give me an excuse for my wet undergarments. Something’s going on that he’s not telling me.
“Can’t you usually open portals at will?” I ask, if only to distract myself from the pain.
He scrapes a hand over his face and lets out a long breath. “Usually.”
The door creaks open and the healer bustles in, coming to my side, and I realize that even if there is something happening with him and his magic, that’s as much as he’s going to reveal.
Chapter Seventeen
Jasalyn
Go to bed like a good girl, and I will make the pain go away.
Erith’s words echo in my head as I force my eyes open to take in my surroundings. I smell rot and animal feces. It’s damp, cold, and so dark, the charred ceiling half caved in, one wall entirely burned away, exposing the entire place to the darkness of the night.
A squeaking sound comes from the pile of debris at my fingertips, and I scramble back as a rat scurries away from me.
I drag myself toward the missing wall, leaving a trail of blood behind me. I’m losing too much, and if I don’t find a way out of here I will die. I have no idea where I am. I wanted to go to Fherna’s cottage, so why did the sword send me here?
My head is too heavy, and the night is too dark. I can’t die here. I haven’t fixed what I broke. Mordeus is breathing, and I may not understand how resurrection works in a rotting corpse, but I won’t fail again. I can’t. Abriella deserves better.
Leg throbbing, head spinning, I prop myself up on a fallen beam and rip away the bottom of my shirt to wrap around my wound. My eyes fall closed, and time folds in on itself. I’m in my sister’s arms while our house burns around us.
Hold on. I’ve got you.
I fight for consciousness and Kendrick is scooping me into his arms, and I know I’m still dreaming because mighty wings tear from his back and we’re flying through the night. I know I’m dreaming because I’ve never been so happy to see the stars.
Someone’s touching me. A palm on my forehead. Cool fingers on my cheek.
“She’s burning up.” I burrow into a warm and solid chest. Kendrick. Yes. I want to sleep more and dream of Kendrick.
“Is it the ring?” another voice asks. Abriella? What is she doing here?
“Maybe? Probably? Do you think Felicity got the stone?”
“I won’t consider an alternative, but even if she could bring it to us, I won’t risk casting the spell outside of the palace walls. There are too many unknowns here.”
“No goblin is going to transport her in this condition,” Kendrick says. “So unless you’re aware of a portal nearby . . .”
“We don’t have the time.”
I’m lowered down and the warmth of those arms is taken away. I cry out and reach for them without opening my eyes. I’m too cold.
“I’m sorry, Slayer. We need to get your fever down.”
Slayer. The nickname tugs on threads in my mind, trying to pull memories to the surface. Mordeus’s dungeons. My constant fear. Kendrick’s reassurance. The way the pet name changed years later, the way I’d begun to feel powerful when anyone called me that.
“I’ll run a cool bath.”
My throat is raw. As if I’ve been screaming for hours. I’m covered in sweat and my bones feel like they’re coated in ice. I pry open my gummy eyes and see Kendrick kneeling beside me.
“There you are.” He smooths back my hair. “The ring is making you sick, but you’re safe now. We’re going to get rid of it and you’re going to be okay.”
“The sword . . .” Why am I so tired? I did what the goblin said. I killed the wolpertinger. I drank straight from its beating heart. “I left the sword. . . . Erith . . .”
“You don’t need to talk,” Kendrick says. He slides an arm behind my back and guides me to sit up. “Don’t worry about that right now. We can figure out everything when you’re feeling better.”