Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She jerked her face up to meet his eyes, solemn and serious and heartfelt. He would essentially exile himself to support her. He was such a fucking good guy.
She snaked her arm around his waist and squeezed him. He hugged her back.
“But you’re going to say no,” he surmised when she’d loosened her hold.
Dylan popped his head back out through the door, glancing at Jerry. He gave a nod. All clear.
“He’d find me,” she whispered, the weight of that assertion settling heavily in her gut. She was connected to him. Maybe had been since the ledge. Hell, maybe had been since the Demigod convention, when he’d sought her out.
You were always going to end up in this situation.
At this point, it was not a matter of running or hiding. Right now, it was a matter of playing the game. Of winning. That was all that mattered. Maybe all that ever did.
“I can’t explain how I know…I just do. It’ll take me killing him. If you guys want to help, help me do that.”
He paused at the door and pushed it open wider, his arm high. He waited until she ducked under it to go in first. “Okay,” he said to her back.
The soft light of battery-powered lanterns placed sporadically on the ground illuminated small areas of the vast, airy barn. A large network of weathered wooden beams rose to the ceiling high above, connecting with the rafters. Rough-hewn wooden planks jutted out from the carcasses of old horse stalls, silvery gray with age. Cracks and gaps let the light from the other lanterns seep through the other side and join those nearer her. Compacted dirt and traces of soiled and soggy straw lay underfoot, some areas scuffed away from heavy traffic down the center of the space.
In the middle on the right, however, everything changed. Metal shelving gleamed in the diffused illumination, pushed back against glossy white particle board to block off the old plank walls behind it. That same style of board closed in the shelves on either side and bedsheets, the fitted kind, draped down the front. Odd choice of cover.
Daisy drew near, knowing this was what they were looking for.
“Looks like it definitely wasn’t Mr. Whiskers,” Donovan murmured as he pulled back the sheet.
“Let her through.” Zorn put a hand on Donovan’s arm, moving him out of the way. His eyes were on Daisy as he took over pulling the sheet back, hooking it on the corner of the setup.
She frowned as the others, even Lexi and Kieran, pushed away to the sides, giving her plenty of space.
“I’m no expert,” she said, but her curiosity continued to propel her forward.
“You’re the only one who’s seen what the fae is looking for.” Zorn followed her gaze to the shelves, six in all, somewhat like a metal bookshelf. Items of all shapes were spread out on various colored towels. She bent to look at the bottom, seeing stone textures with jagged edges. Some items appeared like geometric shapes, angling up at a diagonal, resting on the only flat surface. Others looked like rocks out of a decorative garden, shades of brown or gray or sand but with streaks of another color or smoother texture running through. A couple had the gems Rutherford’s notes had mentioned, though from here they looked more like smooth or bumpy rock. Their colors ranged from deep crimson, to twinkling periwinkle, to soft jade… All the colors of the rainbow, it seemed, and not something that would fetch any sort of decent price with a jeweler. She knew precious stones. These weren’t fit to be sold. Not as anything someone might affix in a ring or necklace, at any rate. No, their value probably lay in a different market.
The next shelf had smoother surfaces, like colored glass. Each was in a kind of block, clear on the outside but a moving, writhing set of colors within, twisting and turning around each other, and sometimes bubbling to the surface. At least, that was the impression they gave Daisy. None of the insides actually moved at all.
Next were the crystals, the most populated shelf. Most of these one might find on a Tarot deck. The colors here also varied, with a cloudy violet, a splotchy sky blue, or a streaked and hazy white nestled in a rough, rock-type base. The other shelves held an odd assortment, none of them really going with each other or anything else. The strange, gem-looking rock things were stuck in a few items, as though hammered there.
Daisy stared, transfixed, as one on the top shelf started to visibly vibrate. The air above it turned hazy, like heat rising from hot concrete on a blistering summer day. She reached out and felt it, the smooth surface slick and cool.
“Is that…” Jack put a hand on her shoulder and leaned over her, easy with their size difference. “Is it moving?”