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)
I smile. “Thanks, Algar.”
“Okay, fine.” Thane comes to a halt, and Algar follows suit. When I stop, Rynthea blows out an agitated breath and pauses, too. After digging through his rucksack strapped to Pearl’s saddle, Thane takes out a sheathed weapon and hands it to me handle first.
“I was going to throw this one out anyway,” he says as I close my fingers around it. “Don’t let the size fool you. It’s small but lethal.”
I unsheathe it to reveal a black blade with silver lining the edges. Engraved in the hilt is the symbol of a familiar D with pointed edges.
“The Divine?” I swivel my eyes up to him again, but he’s already backing away to take hold of Pearl.
“We should keep moving,” he says.
“Gladly,” Rynthea mutters.
I study the letter on the handle again as I follow along.
How did Thane get this? I mean, he could’ve stolen it from one of the soldiers…or killed one of them and taken it. But if he’d done that, he wouldn’t have gotten away with it. The Divine are heavily protected and very close to the crown. One can’t die without another knowing.
That leaves me wondering if they’re after him, too. But what would possess him to attack one of The Divine? And why wouldn’t a soldier have detained him when we were in Meriva if that were the case?
I peer over my shoulder at him, but now he’s avoiding me altogether. He knows I have questions, and I know he isn’t going to answer them…at least not right now. I have the urge to slow my pace so I can match his.
He was right yesterday at Kamtaur. His secrets do intrigue me. I need to know who he really is beneath the mask and buffers. I want to ask so many things about the dagger, about Maliek, about who he really is. I’m so close to doing so…until I hear a voice cry out in the distance.
Immediately, Thane draws one of the swords strapped to his back. Rynthea comes to a halt, ears perked, and the handle of her weapon gripped tight in hand. Algar freezes along with Zephra as their eyes dart toward the sound.
“What was that?” I whisper, clinging to the handle of my new dagger.
“Shh.” Rynthea steps past me and sniffs the air. Narrowing her eyes, she peers into the darkness, searching for the culprit. The cry pierces the silence again, sounding much closer this time. It’s coming from the darkest path.
“Please,” a small voice whimpers. “I need your help. I have—I have been badly hurt. Someone, please help me. I am begging you.”
My heart drops. I know that voice. I turn to Algar. “That sounds like Dulan.”
His eyebrows bunch together. “Impossible. Dulan died. We saw him go down right in front of us.”
“Yes, we saw him go down, but that doesn’t mean he died. He could’ve survived and now he’s on the run.” I turn to face the dark path again.
“Quinlocke, what you hear isn’t real,” Thane warns as gently as he can. “That’s a trick of the forest. Don’t fall for it.”
“How can it be a trick? That sounds just like him.”
“He’s right, Zaira.” Rynthea’s eyes stretch wider as she shakes her head. “We should keep moving. That isn’t whoever you think it is.”
“Please help me. I will bleed to death. I—I just need help, please. I ran away from the guards. I held on for my nan because she needs me. I am wounded very badly. Please, Zaira. Help me.”
Hearing him say my name sends a burst of cold through my veins.
And then I see something deep in the forest. A murky light growing brighter…and within it, a silhouette of a person stumbling toward us.
“Dulan,” I whisper.
“That isn’t him.” Thane says the words through gritted teeth.
“It is him, Thane!” I look at Algar, whose eyes are swimming with apprehension and confusion. “We have to save him, Algar! He tried to help us!”
Algar puts his focus on Thane and Rynthea, who shake their heads at him in unison. “Zaira, we have to keep walking. If that is him, he’ll find Winstoft and someone will assist him there.” Algar grabs my shoulder, but I shake out of his grasp.
“Zaira, look at me.” Hearing Thane say my first name again steals my attention away from the silhouette. He hardly ever says my first name unless he’s serious—or taking me seriously. I look into his eyes, my heart rapidly beating. “This is not the time for saving people, do you hear me? You must let that part of you go during this journey. Not everyone can be saved. Trust me.”
My eyes burn with tears. I glance over again. The silhouette is closer now. Thane is right, but why can’t I move? My eyes are locked on that dark outline—on Dulan limping toward us. His pleas for help eat at my heart. All I can think about are the children at the refugee center. The cries for their parents in the middle of the night. A new child joining the center with trauma pouring off them in waves. The horrors they likely witnessed just to escape. Survivor’s guilt as they grew into teens and then adults…just like me.