Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Tyche snapped first. The tension was killing him, and he was bad at reading people. “So…we’re just not going to talk about any of the weird shit that happened in those last few days in the prison?”
Shey smirked and rose to his feet. He took a couple of steps closer, and Tyche struggled not to tense or edge away. He held his ground against the giant.
Why were they always so tall?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
Shey hummed and nodded. He stared out at the forest spread out in front of them. “I thought it could wait a while. We have to figure out our next steps anyway.” He glanced over at Tyche. “You don’t have a clue as to where we are, do you?”
“Not even a little. Damardor is a safe bet, but that’s about it.”
One corner of Shey’s mouth teased higher. “You don’t have magic for that?”
“Not even a crumb.”
Tyche watched Shey out of the corner of his eye, weighing the man. He managed to almost always have this casual, relaxed demeanor with a playful quip on the tip of his tongue, but there was an undercurrent of ruthlessness and coldness about him that was more than a bit frightening. Chatting with Shey put him at ease, made him want to lower his defenses, but that felt like the most dangerous thing in the world. Could Shey really be trusted?
No.
Tyche hadn’t survived this long by trusting others. He didn’t trust anyone.
But he wanted to trust Shey.
He stayed with Tyche through the night when he didn’t have to. He protected Tyche when he could have left him behind, left him to die.
“I think we should stick together,” Shey announced.
Tyche frowned. “You intend to destroy this group aimlessly killing people accused of having magic.” It should have been a question, but Shey didn’t seem the type to stand by and let innocent people get killed.
“I do.” Those two words were whispered but held a will of steel. Shey didn’t mean to retreat. He’d survived weeks of captivity and torture, but he was ready to head straight back into the lion’s den.
The idea of going with him was tempting. He preferred to avoid all fights, but he owed it to Yesuntei to uncover what the hell was going on. She deserved justice.
But that wasn’t his only fear.
His bigger one was that someone was hunting gods yet again. Tyche had lived through this once already. He refused to see the rise of yet another Zyros.
Of course, the smarter choice was to go to Brightspire and deposit Yesuntei’s powers there before someone could kill him and gain both his and Yesuntei’s powers.
A large, firm hand landed on Tyche’s shoulder and squeezed. Tyche yelped and jumped to his right. He twisted around with his fists raised to find Shey staring at him with a shocked expression, his hand still hanging in the air where it had been on Tyche’s shoulder.
“Oh, yeah,” Tyche muttered. Heat suffused his cheeks, and he lowered his fists. “Sorry. You surprised me. I’m used to you being a voice and a thick wall between us.” He lifted a finger and swirled it in the air toward Shey’s head. “I’m still adjusting to you having a face, too.”
Shey’s bark of laughter echoed through the forest, scaring birds a second time. Tyche rolled his eyes at himself and edged closer to the human. His finger extended, he poked Shey’s stomach and chest.
“Huh. You are real. I was in that prison so long; I was half convinced you were a hallucination.”
“No, you weren’t.”
Tyche grinned and shook his head. Maybe he also liked that Shey had no problem seeing through his bullshit. “No, I wasn’t.”
Shey lifted his hand and held it there, allowing Tyche to watch its very slow descent until it landed on Tyche’s shoulder. His heart fluttered as Shey squeezed, and his breath caught in his throat. So silly.
“All I was going to say was that we shouldn’t worry about long-term plans for now. Our focus should be on finding a town. Food. A dry place to sleep.”
“Coffee,” Tyche moaned.
Shey chuckled. “Yes, good coffee would be nice too. After that, we can figure out where to go next and how to destroy the people who hurt Yesuntei and all the others.”
“These are very good plans. Just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
Tyche grabbed the front of his blood- and dirt-encrusted shirt, holding it out from his body. “Who the hell is going to take us in looking like a pair of escaped psychopaths on a killing spree?”
Shey lifted the hand from Tyche’s shoulder, and Tyche immediately missed the warmth and weight of his touch. Shey waved his hand at Tyche. “Details. We’ll figure that out when the time comes. Let’s get out of this forest first.”
Preferably before Scarella and her minions pulled their heads out of their asses and chased them down…