Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I hate the way I feel my face crumble. “How are you making me into something I’m not?”
“I forced you to work for House Kolbeck. You have no allegiance to us, not to me. You only have allegiance to yourself. You worked hard for your freedom and I stripped it away from you.” He swallows, giving his head a tiny shake. “I don’t want to do that anymore. You’re free to go.”
I don’t want to go.
It’s not just that he healed me—for the time being or not—but that something has flipped between us. Something has changed. And maybe it’s only the fact that he’s deciding to let me go, but…
I think I trust him.
“Then all of this will have been for nothing,” I say to him.
“No,” he says, looking surprised. “Not for nothing. I’ve had you in my life from one moon to the next. That wasn’t for nothing.”
Oh, blazes. My chest clenches at that, like the breath has been knocked out of me.
My throat feels too thick to speak properly. “I didn’t think you’d let me go so easily,” I manage to say.
He gives me a tight smile. “Nothing about this is easy. I want you here. But you knew that from the beginning. What do you want?”
“I want to see my aunt,” I tell him. “I want to bring her out of the Dark City. To Norland, somewhere. I want a better life. I want a better tomorrow. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
His grip tightens on my neck, his gaze dropping to my mouth where it burns. “Then, if you let me, I want to give you a better tomorrow.” The muscle in his jaw tics, his eyes looking anguished for a moment. “I can’t give many people many things, but I think I can give you that. I can at least try.”
Pride ripples through me, the urge to step out of his grip, the well-honed instinct to tell him that I don’t need him to give me anything, that I don’t need anything from anyone. For a moment I feel torn, like my vanity is about to rip me in two.
But I close my eyes and let myself give in.
I nod, about to tell him that’s exactly what I want, but as soon as I open my mouth, Lemi’s bark comes from outside the cave.
Andor releases me and steps back as Lemi comes bounding toward us, tongue lolling, tail wagging.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, crouching down to his level as he slobbers all over me. “I told you to stay on the ship!”
He makes a bow and then barks again. He obviously wants us to get going.
I get to my feet, smiling as I ruffle up his ears with a vigorous head rub, then look over at Andor. “I guess this a sign to head back to the ship.”
He nods and starts gathering up the blanket and the rest of our stuff. “I figured as much. Storms seem to have stopped, so hopefully it will be a quick journey back.”
While he continues to pack up I excuse myself to venture farther into the cave to relieve myself out of sight. Lemi follows me, of course. Can’t ever do my business without him there. When I’m done, feeling a little better, and still elated that my cramps are gone, Andor is packed up and ready to go. He hands me my pack and I sling it over my shoulder, and then I pick up my swords and slide them into the sheaths at my back.
He straps on his leather pouch around his waist, checking to make sure the vials of suen are all right, then nods. “Okay. I think we’re ready. Just remember, we’re still in the blooddrage territory. You saved me once but we can’t depend on that happening again. I don’t want to put you at risk like that. So let’s move quickly and quietly.”
I nod, though if he thinks that I’m just going to leave him to get eaten by dragons, he’s got another think coming.
Chapter 18
Andor
“Where’s Brynla?” Feet, my crewman, says to me as he passes me a mug of something. “We’re about to start our card game. Always helps to have an even number of players.”
“I think she’s on deck,” I say, sniffing the drink. I make a face. “Oh, did Toombs make his grog again?”
“It’s rum,” Toombs announces, slapping me on the back, making the drink spill over, the acidic molasses smell filling the air.
“It’s grog,” I correct him. He holds out his mug and I sigh reluctantly, tipping my vessel against his. “Down the hatch, I guess.”
I drink back the awful stuff while everyone else chants, “Down the hatch, down the hatch!”
I manage to swallow it down and suddenly my mug is already refilled and I’m somehow holding two mugs.