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)
Magic, obviously. His magic or his activating some other kind of magic.
Perceptive. His thought felt flimsy, less solid. His amusement was only a passing wisp, lost to the darkness a moment later. He was fading fast.
Here we go. She gripped the feeling of him in her head harder. Almost there. Rest will help. You just need rest.
She hoped that was all he needed, because in this realm, she had no idea which plants might act as medicine, and which plants might finish him off.
21
Step by aching step, she wrestled him toward that glowing shack at the end of the tiny path, not much more than a game trail, but for really large game. On one of his stumbles, he reached out to grab her. His hand didn’t touch down. He quickly pulled it away, probably so his arm wouldn’t drag her closer against his side, crushing any lingering poison onto her skin.
I’m sure it’s all oozed down your body by now, she said, nearly there, reaching around his big back.
“No.” He shoved away from her and fell into the door. “No—”
The door gave way under his weight, and he tumbled into the space. His hand peeled off the ancient-looking knob, bronzed and weather worn. His limbs settled on the ground, and he stayed there, cheek against the dusty wooden floor, chest rising and falling much too quickly.
“Fine.” She stepped around him, grabbed his wrists, and heaved. It was like moving a concrete pillar. “C’mon, you bastard,” she mumbled, using anger to coax adrenaline into her aching joints and tired limbs. “C’mon, here we go.” She dragged him a little bit, then a little bit more. “You could also help me. Just go ahead and inchworm forward. A little bit more and I can close the door.”
With a world-weary sigh, he did as she said, not moving much, but enough for her to use his momentum to inch him all the way into the modest space. That done, she stepped around him to close the door, but imagery started tumbling into her mind. She paused, hand on the knob, focusing on the beautiful images filled with light and sunbeams and vibrant hues of color. A path wound through them, following the natural landmarks, turns, and finally ending at a babbling brook.
The imagery changed to the space they occupied. Cupboards and baskets filled with supplies and—
She stepped over him, finding the cupboard in question and pulling out the water skin.
More images—no, the same as before, going over the directions, instructing her to get water.
“Got it,” she said, turning.
Still more images came, this time ending in a field near the brook and looking down on a very pretty flower with an explosion of vibrancy. Magenta and amethyst petals framed a core of fiery marigold, emitting beads of light that drifted into the air and hovered all around. Just off the center, the petals looked like leaves, with veins of luminous tangerine, fuchsia, or violet. The leaves seemed ultraviolet, with the blues, purples, pinks, and lime greens.
He went through how to pick it twice, how to tuck it into the pack she needed to grab in a minute, and how to prepare it. So handy, this way of communicating. It made information transfer so much quicker and less tedious.
When he was finished, and before she could leave, images of creatures flashed into her mind. His feelings indicated how she should respond to them, if she should fight, run, hide…
Finally, the images stopped, his feelings subsided, and she lifted her brow to make sure that meant she should go.
The image of the door hitting her in the ass on the way out filtered into her mind.
“Cute,” she said dryly, grabbing the pack, strapping it and the water skin to her person, and checking her weapons.
She didn’t have a shirt, which would make a quick draw of her knife easier, but it would also expose that she had a knife. Of course, she had yanked Tarian’s belt and sheath off him and secured it around her hips, so it wasn’t like she would be hiding anything anyway. She was at least thankful she’d been abducted after a job and not after an event. Her nipples showing through a lacy bra was not what she was going for. The sturdy cotton she currently wore checked the right boxes.
“Okay wylds,” she murmured, setting off. “Let’s see if you can sneak a rock in my way.”
It felt like his memories were stamped into hers, which made traveling the path feel like she’d done it before. Done it often, actually, although…looking around, noticing the tree with the hollow at the bottom, or the strange knot in that trunk, or the small outcropping of rocks that had no hope of catching her foot, she had to own that he saw things a lot differently than she did. His imagery was so colorful and pretty, with dancing filaments of plants and the silvery sparkle of moonlight or random glowing orbs. In reality—her reality—the same objects were dark and gloomy, with murky shadows pooling at the bases and the press of eyes from unseen places. She felt like the storm cloud to his blissful, sunny day.