Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Too late to turn back now.
Chapter 36
After several hours and two breaks, I see a towering gold gate with torches flickering ahead. The sky has long changed from the yellow-orange hue it was when we left and is now a velvety dark blue splattered with twinkling stars.
“We’re finally here,” Rynthea says after a deep sigh. Both she and Algar dismount their horse.
“Did anyone consider that they might not let us in?” Algar throws out there.
“They will.” Rynthea wraps their horse’s reins tighter around her hand and closes them in a fist. “We’ll just tell their council where we came from and who these horses belong to. But first…” She pauses, giving Thane a critical once-over. “You need to put your weapons away. Gadonia is all about peace, and if they sense any sort of threat, they won’t let us in.”
“Says the minotaur carrying a scythesword,” Thane retorts.
“My scythesword will be out of my hands and strapped to the horse. I’m not stupid enough to approach a kingdom’s gates with weapons in hand as an outsider. It’s not a good look. But I suppose you could care less about that.”
“You do know that I’ve saved your life twice now.” Thane tugs on the reins to slow our horse down. “Yet you still treat me like scum.”
Rynthea rolls her eyes. “Now I see why Kelrean gets so pissy when I remind him that I saved his life.”
Algar snorts.
When our horse stops, Thane slides off the saddle, and I follow, stretching with relief. My tailbone is aching and my spine feels stiff, but riding was better than walking.
“Stuff everything into your rucksack.” Rynthea watches as Thane unties his vest and tucks it into his bag. In exchange for the vest, he pulls out his hooded cowl and slides it over his head.
“You just love being ominous, don’t you?” Algar quips.
Thane ignores him as he removes the dagger from under his shirtsleeve. He wipes imaginary dust and lint off his clothes, then spins around slowly, showing off his new look. “Better?”
“Much,” Rynthea says. “Let’s go.”
As we trail behind, I gawk at the arched gates made of pure, shining gold. Pearls adorn the edge of the gates, and two guards stand before them in sea-green uniforms. Their clothing is made of an iridescent material that shifts colors in the moonlight with every movement.
As we near them, they stand taller, square their shoulders, and place their hands on the hilts of their swords.
“Where are you traveling from?” the shorter of the two guards asks.
“Immalon,” Thane answers.
The taller guard’s eyes narrow as he scrutinizes us. “We are to believe the Queen of Immalon welcomed you four in?”
“Check the saddles.” Thane gestures to the horses, and both guards make their way around them, studying the brown leather saddles. Each one has a symbol of a circle split into four, and each section of the circle contains an image of an element.
“How do we know they aren’t stolen?” the tall one interrogates.
“How would we have stolen horses from a tribe of elementalists?” Rynthea asks with a scoff. “They’d have killed us before we could even blink at a horse.”
“Magic,” the shorter one shoots back. “I’m sure one of you wields it. Which one of you is it?”
“I do.” The guards put their attention on Thane again, scanning him thoroughly, possibly seeing him as an even bigger threat. “And I didn’t use any magic in Immalon. They helped us escape a broken bridge. We were wounded, and they healed us, then sent us on our way here, as we’d already planned.” Thane pulls the collar of his cowl lower, revealing the fresh scar on his chest.
The guards look between each other but still don’t buy it.
“Queen Xiaodera told us not to mention we were in Immalon to anyone but the Gadonian council,” I say. “I assume speaking to the guards is safe, too. She values the relationship her tribe has with your city.”
The guards’ shoulders soften, but only a notch.
Then the short one says, “We’ll need to run this by our council. Stay put.”
“Great,” Algar says under his breath as they march off.
…
After a quarter hour, the guards return with two people trailing them. One is a woman, the other a man. A very familiar man. He passes through the gates and looks at Rynthea in both shock and awe. Everyone is always surprised to see a minotaur. As I take in his wavy, dark-brown hair, bronze skin, and the cleft in his chin, there’s no mistaking who he is.
“Enver?” I gape at the sight of my childhood friend.
He fastens his eyes on me.
“Love of Thelanor,” he breathes. “Is that you, Zaira?”
We run toward each other, and he reels me in for a tight embrace. I nearly cry into his shoulder.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” He laughs. “My goodness, it’s been so long!”