Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
I grabbed his parka tight. “Come back to me. I can’t have you leave me.”
“Never leaving you,” he grumbled like that was stupid, then bolted away like the hero he was.
“He’ll be crushed,” someone yelled, which was completely unhelpful.
“Where is he going?” another asked.
I closed my eyes and asked my grandparents to watch over him, realizing that just as I had given Constance an amulet for protection, it was time to find one for my husband. I was thinking about that, a rune for Lorne, perhaps a bind rune, two pieces working together, when Argos squirmed in my arms and bolted after Lorne, toward the mansion that was a pile of stone now.
The blade at my back was not a surprise.
“Ilara,” I said, deducing it was her because Giles would have shoved the knife in, ending my life because I was nothing to him. She, I was certain, wanted something from me.
“Walk with me,” she ordered.
When I turned, I saw she was dressed head to toe in fur. My bet would be fox and mink. I never understood people who chose fur now, when there were so many better alternatives to keep you warm.
Moving me away from the crowd, we left the road and began down a small muddy path toward the woods. Her suede snow boots with fur around the tops were going to get trashed.
“Why don’t you let me go,” I suggested, hoping to get her talking.
“You ruined everything, Xander. Why would I do that?”
“Ruined what?”
“Giles and I, we could have been happy here. He told me the land was strong enough to sustain him, and because of that, he could train me and give me some of his power.”
“Because you’re a witch, but you want to be a hedge-rider, and not a normal one, but one just like he is.”
Taking hold of my arm to stop me, she spun me around to face her. Her deep brown eyes met mine, holding my gaze.
“He’s not here,” I reminded her. “He won’t hear, and I certainly won’t tell him.”
Her sigh was long. “How did you know I was a practitioner of the dark arts?”
I was so proud of myself that I didn’t roll my eyes, didn’t groan, kept my feelings about “dark arts” to myself, because, as a witch, you either did the best for others and yourself with your magic or you did not. Hard to romanticize causing pain with your power. “I can feel magic in others. It’s one of the blessings I received from my lord Arawn.”
She scoffed. “You would have done better to belong to a god like Agrona, who is fearsome in battle and drinks the blood of her enemies.”
“Are you pledged to this goddess?”
“I am her disciple.”
“And have you spoken to your lady?”
She laughed. “You pledge yourself and your practice, Xander, and receive blessings, but you don’t speak to whom you worship.”
I didn’t say a word.
“Giles says Arawn rides over Corvus, but I know he means that the land is sacred to him. We do not see gods or goddesses.”
“And in the realm you came from, you didn’t see them there either?”
“My realm is older, wilder, and where all manner of monsters roam.”
The way she said it, I could hear the wistfulness. “Why do you want to be a hedge-rider?”
“To learn all the secrets of the universe.”
I squinted at her. “Try again.”
She stared at me.
“Why not say? You can’t honestly think I’ll live much longer.”
“That is true.”
“What’s the harm, then?”
Long exhale, and I knew she’d been holding the truth in for some time. “I want to be a hedge-rider, the kind Giles is, so that I may return to my realm and take back what was stolen from me.”
“Who stole it?”
“My mother died, you see, and my father married a cunning woman who had a son.”
“Did she kill your father?”
The pain in her eyes was fleeting, but it was there. “She killed a great man and then put her son on the throne.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Giles saved me from death, and I am thankful, but I must return and put things right.”
“Have you considered that time moves differently in every realm? Those you seek revenge on may be dust by now.”
“I could still regain my place.”
“But you have to think, if it’s been ages, then you’re waging war on people who never did you any harm.”
She scoffed. “You think like someone who craves peace, and I was raised that only blood solves disputes.”
“You would end up slaughtering innocent people.”
“How could they be innocent if they are from the line of a son who usurped me?”
I could tell from the set of her jaw, her flat gaze, and the chill in her voice that her course had been set ages ago. I was wasting my breath. And yes, what happened to her parents was terrible, but she needed to forge a new path. They wouldn’t have wanted her dead, or to cause death to undeserving souls. Or I was wrong. She had been raised to believe in violence rather than peace after all.