Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
I try to remember where we are, in woods I have known all my life.
“There is a pond over that—” As I swing my arm around, I wish there was a place I could go for some clarification. “—way.”
“Let us go then.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I murmur as I remove my pack and kneel down. “Can you take Lavante?”
“Yes, but be careful with that compass.”
“What do you mean?”
Merc shrugs as he starts to walk off with the horses. “You’re assuming the energy it reads is always the good kind.”
“It hasn’t been wrong yet,” I grit out as he disappears into the forest.
The tension between us is not helping, and yet I want to run up to him to argue the point. If it weren’t for the compass’s guidance, getting around that fog would have been impossible—
The instrument’s top pops off as soon as I bring it out of its satchel, and the dial is already spinning under the magical map, as if there is an urgency to its message.
And then it stops. The orientation is north and slightly west—which is not where Prosperitus is located. In fact, there’s nothing but more woods there, for as far as the eye can see. Or cannot see, as the case may be—
“Fates,” I whisper as I realize where it wants me to go.
Closing the compass up, I hesitate for a moment, and as I consider the suggested course, I’m reluctant and doubtful. But all choices seem fraught.
Navigating through the branches and winding around the occasional boulder, I search for carcasses, and when I smell a bank of rancid sweetness on the breeze, I know that whole herds have been slaughtered. Whether they’re sacrifices in the name of mistaken purification or the result of demons, it doesn’t matter.
Aren’t they the same thing, in a way?
As I break out onto a small sandy beach, I find Merc standing next to the drinking horses with his hands on his hips and his troubled eyes staring out over the still water of the oval pond. The sun is still high enough to top the crowns of the trees that grow on its opposite shore, and the rays are beautiful as they stripe their way over, seemingly in supplication to Merc.
His weapons are on him, his long hair flowing down his back.
And always that planted stance of his, as if he’s ready to fight.
“You look like you want to take a swim,” I say.
He stares over his shoulder, his face a mask. Yet he smiles. “And you look beautiful in this light.”
Flushing, I push at my hair, which I have left down and loose. “I, ah, I want to go check and see if the Sooths are alive. Their temple is not far. Will you wait here? They’re recluses and may not even let me in. I don’t even know why I’m going.”
But I’m sure they most certainly will not grant a man who looks like Merc any audience.
“Yes, I’ll stay here.” He turns back to the water. “There’s enough daylight to get us to Prosperitus, but not much to spare. Be as quick as you can.”
“I won’t be long. I just … have to know whether the Sooths were burned down, too.” I hesitate. “You should have that swim. You look like … well, I won’t be long.”
Merc nods like he’s lost in his own thoughts. Yet as I turn away, he says, “Do you have a weapon?”
I push my hand into Julion’s pocket and feel the smooth, sharp contours of the crystal blade given to me by a noble outlaw. “Yes.”
“Good. Keep smart, and if you need me, I can be to you in a moment.”
“Okay.”
The trees are dense, and I fight my way through them, ducking and bending, crunching on the leaves that have fallen already. It doesn’t escape me that there are the beginnings of the black blight here and there, and evidence of the black flakes I saw when I found the dragon, when we passed the Fulcrum today. The contamination is spreading, the Dark King growing more powerful.
It’s a while before I see the telltale red roof of the temple, and much to my relief, the structure has remained untouched behind its wall. The building is two-storied and about the size of Thale’s establishment. It has no windows, in keeping with the Sooths’ belief that they must remain free of outside influence, and there’s a little extension out to one side, like a short hall that pierces its protective barrier.
I’ve heard that’s where people go to ask for help: No one is allowed inside the temple itself, but they will grant you an audience of conversation there, if they choose, with them staying behind their screening.
Underfoot, the ground cover crunches, and I can tell as I close in that my presence has registered because the smoke drifting out of their chimney changes from black to white. Perhaps it’s the noise I’m making. Maybe it’s some other monitoring I can’t begin to guess at.