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)
“Don’t drop this!”
And then he was off again, zigzagging between guards like an overly caffeinated ferret.
Shey wasn’t sure if Tyche wanted him to use the stick as a weapon or if it was to serve some other purpose. It didn’t matter. The guard who’d punched him stepped up, intending to deliver several more blows.
Shey lifted the knife in his right hand, preparing to defend himself while fighting the urge to toss the stick to the ground. Tyche had to be messing with him.
But he wasn’t. A guard chasing Tyche stumbled and hit the guard coming at Shey from behind. The man tripped and fell forward. The stick that was in Shey’s hand stabbed straight through the man’s eye and into his brain. It snapped off in Shey’s hand, and Shey stood frozen for a heartbeat. Tyche’s weird magic had killed three of the ten guards without him using a single weapon that any of them could see. When the third man fell dead, all the other guards stopped. They all looked at each other, appearing afraid to make a move. Running and fighting meant horrible luck happening that got them killed.
“Fuck this shit,” a grizzled guard with white hair and scars across his forehead snarled. “Shoot ’em. We’ll say some mountain lions ate them before we could get them.”
No one seemed to have a problem with that because all the remaining guards lifted their automatic weapons and took aim.
“Fuck. Shit. Damn,” Tyche complained as he edged closer to Shey. “This is why I can’t go all willy-nilly. It always whips back around.”
Shey sidled to Tyche, his heart hammering in his chest while he attempted to shield the smaller man with his larger body. But there was no point. Even with only seven guards, they were surrounded. His storm magic was their one option. Shey reached deep inside, conjuring up the ball of energy in his chest, praying he had enough time to fry these fuckers with some lightning.
“Hey, Shey!”
A wonderfully familiar voice rang through the forest, and for a moment, Shey was sure he was hallucinating as he stood at the very end of his life. He lifted his head while all the guards jerked toward the voice to find Adrian Westergren standing with his foot on a fallen log, a wicked grin on his handsome face, and a pair of shiny silver daggers in his hands.
Even more shocking was Haru standing beside him with his usual playfully serene expression. They were two of the very last people he’d ever expected to see standing in the middle of Damardor, but they were such a welcome sight.
“Are these assholes bothering you?” Adrian shouted.
“Actually…yes.”
Haru nodded. “We got it.”
The guards attempted to swing their guns to the new attackers, but it was too late. Blades flashed out of Adrian’s hands quicker than anyone could have expected. At the same time, Haru rushed to the group in little more than a blur. Shey couldn’t keep his eyes on him, but the sounds of screams and breaking bones marked where he’d passed. There wasn’t enough time for Shey to join in the carnage.
In a matter of seconds, it was all over. Shey and Tyche stood surrounded by corpses, barely a scratch on them.
Adrian jogged the last of the distance between them, a huge grin on his face. Shey met him and pulled him in for a tight hug, slapping him on the back twice. The last time he’d seen Adrian and Haru had been at the end of the battle in the Ordas. Caelan had defeated gods. Had become one himself, which Shey still struggled to wrap his brain around.
Yet Haru and Adrian had been two grounding points for him through all the chaos. They’d traveled the Ordas together. Fought monsters and New Rosanthe to save the world.
“By the gods, you have no idea how long I’ve been searching for you,” Adrian said in a rush.
“I can’t believe you and Haru are in Damardor,” Shey choked out past the sudden tightness in his throat. His eyes stung, and his heart was doing the strangest flip-flop in his chest. Was this relief? Hope? Real hope after so fucking long…
Adrian released him and retreated a step, only to grab Shey’s arms and look at him with a critical eye, as if checking to make sure he was in one piece. “Your mother came to Rayne and Eno’s wedding. She asked Cael for some help because you had gone missing.” Adrian released one arm to wag a finger at him. “Rayne is very pissed at you.”
Shey cleared his throat and lowered his gaze. Rayne had every right to be pissed at him. As one of Rayne’s oldest friends, he should have been there on that incredibly special day, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to watch Rayne get married. He was a coward but hadn’t realized it until he’d been stuck in that prison cell with all the time in the world to think about his recent actions.