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)
“Should’ve known you two were coming,” she says without looking up. “I could hear Algar’s annoying voice when you were at the entrance.”
“Yep,” Algar says with a pop of his lips. “She’s swell.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“I lost my scythesword,” she grumbles.
“Yeah.” I step into the room. “I’m so sorry about that.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds, then she exhales. “It was a gift from my father.” She drops her head just enough for her hair to curtain her face. “I promised to never lose it.”
My heart aches as I watch her continue to stare at the floor. After a while, she raises her head and meets my eyes. “I don’t think I can continue this quest, Zaira. I feel like I’ve lost so much, and it’s only been a day since I left Kamtaur.”
“I understand.” I lace my fingers in front of me, giving them a light wring. “You won’t go back through Delchester alone, will you?”
“No. I’ll return to Bernwood, go to the nearest port, and catch a boat that’ll take me to Junsho. From there, I’ll travel to Winstoft. It’ll take an extra day or so, but it’s much safer.”
I nod, relieved. “I know we just met, but I’ll miss hanging out with you,” I murmur, sitting next to her.
She laughs. “You call being attacked every hour hanging out?”
I laugh, too. “Fair point. But it’s better to face an attack with a fierce minotaur at my side than none at all.”
She gives me a warm, genuine smile.
I look at Algar. “What about you?”
“I agree about the attacks. It’s been gods-awful. But I’m seeing this through.” Algar flashes a grin, and Zephra whacks him in the face with her tail.
I giggle. Even Zephra considers him a fool for not backing out. I won’t blame him if he does. No one deserves to carry Thane’s baggage—and heavy baggage it is.
Thinking of Thane, I stand up and say, “I’ll check on our sorcerer.”
Algar takes my place next to Rynthea, giving me a knowing look before he taps the patch on her head. She winces with a snarl. He chuckles, throwing his hands in the air when she raises a fist at him.
When I step around the corner, I take a peek into the next room. There is Thane, resting on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His mask, swords, and buffers have been removed and placed neatly on a corner table, along with his rucksack. There seems to be a cloud of gloom hovering above him. In stark contrast, there is a vase of bright-yellow flowers on his windowsill.
I clear my throat, and he lifts his head. When he sees it’s me, he drops his head on the pillow again and puffs out a breath. “Surprised you stuck around,” he says.
“Well, I don’t hate you anymore, and you have Frevella’s sphere, so…”
He doesn’t respond.
My heart starts to beat faster. “You do still have it, don’t you?”
“Yes. It’s in my bag.”
“Okay. Good.” I breathe a sigh of relief and step deeper into the room. Then a cheeky smile sweeps across my face. “So do I get a thank-you?”
“For what?”
“Saving your life.”
He snorts. “Are we keeping tallies? Because if so, I’d say we’re about ten to one. Maybe higher.”
“So you agree. It was my turn to save you, then?”
“Sure. There might even be a next time.”
“So you admit it—I’m just as good at saving your life as you are at saving mine.”
“Don’t get carried away, Quinlocke.” He smirks the tiniest of smirks.
I stifle a laugh. “How long do they say you need to heal?” I ask, moving to the side of the bed and looking into his eyes.
“I’m fine.” He starts to sit up but hisses sharply and flops back down on the bed as he grips his chest. When he tugs the collar of his shirt down, I see a small stab wound close to his shoulder.
“What happened there?”
“Maliek,” he mutters.
“It’s bleeding.”
“The healer gave me something and said the bleeding would stop soon.”
“Well maybe if you stop moving and tone down the bravado, it’ll heal faster.” I scan the high shelves on the other side of the room. They’re crammed with bowls, medicines, and glass vials. A built-in counter below them displays a stack of neatly folded towels.
“Where is the healer, anyway?” I ask.
“Don’t know. She saw my gear and kept giving me funny looks. Won’t be surprised if she doesn’t come back. She probably thinks I’ll cut her head off or something.”
“Hmm. Can’t say I blame her for thinking that. You do love cutting heads off.”
I walk over to the shelves and read the etched vials. I spot one with porune oil, pluck it off the shelf, grab two clean towels, and carry both to Thane’s bed.
“What is that?” he asks, fighting a groan.
“Porune. It’s a numbing agent. It’ll blunt the pain. Now lift up your shirt,” I order.