Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Light burst from the impact, rippling outward. A translucent sphere snapped into place around us, the air humming as though strung too tight. I almost couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
Fire slammed against the barrier in violent waves, splashing harmlessly away. When the assault faltered, the monstra circling beyond, heads swiveling, eyes sliding over us without recognition.
We were invisible to them? “What is this?” I whispered.
Jasher shrunk to his half-shifted form and slumped forward, suddenly small in the vast sky. His hand tightened on the pegacorn’s reins as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. But Skyprancer was fading.
I looked down and whimpered. Starflight was fading too, her mane no longer catching the light, only shadow. It was thinning, strand by strand, colors paling, edges blurring like breath on glass. Her wings passed through her sister’s, the feathers losing shape and substance.
I pressed a hand over my mouth, halting a cry. Neither pegacorn’s hooves were striking clouds. They didn’t make a sound at all.
Even their outlines faded, until Jasher and I were alone in the bubble, floating down, down.
He met my gaze, saddened. “That was their death knell,” he told me softly. “They saved us, and spent themselves to do it.”
29
BITTERSWEET GOODBYES
Pop. The sound was small but final as the bubble vanished. Our feet met the ground with ease, glitter raining upon us, a soft shower and the only remnant of the pegacorns’ beauty and sacrifice.
No monstra had followed us. Unable to see us, they’d scattered.
Now, Skyprancer and Starflight were simply… gone. As I stood there, breathing, the air felt wrong. Empty in a way that hurt, as though something essential had been removed. I pressed a hand between my breasts. The sisters had been so pure. Creatures born of light, love, and sky. Too gentle for this world. They hadn’t hesitated to save us and condemn themselves.
My throat closed around a sound I couldn’t make. I covered my mouth, as if that might contain the distress, but it surged anyway, cracking me open from the ribs.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. The words rang hollow. “I’m so sorry.”
Glitter clung to my palms, my clothes, even the stone at my feet. Shards of what they’d once been.
I closed my eyes as Jasher spun me into him, urging me to bury my face in the dip of his neck.
“Am I making everything worse?” I cried. Before, the pegacorns survived beyond this point.
He stroked my hair and clutched my lower back, keeping me tucked into his warmth. “You make everything better, and they knew it. That’s why they did what they did.”
Something in his tone… “You intend to do something.” I looked up at him, eyes burning. He couldn’t mask his sorrow.
The only way to clear the board was to remove the monstra… through Ian’s death. Instant victory for King Ahav. Instant death for Jasher. I stiffened.
“You plan to kill Ian,” I stated, hollow.
A clipped nod. “Without him, the monstra go away.”
I shook my head with violent force, pulling back while gripping his shirt. “And what of you? Us?” I couldn’t lose him.
The sadness leaked into his wings, and they drooped. “There may not be an us, after the Ring of Truth.”
So. He sensed the doom stalking us, too. Whatever we learned could tear us apart for good.
A noise behind us had him whirling around, pulling from my hold, ready for battle.
I cast my gaze beyond our little world, marveling. “Where are we?”
“The royal stables,” he intoned.
Talk about a dagger to the heart. The pegacorns had carried us to their home. Exactly where we’d hoped to be. And yet, trepidation shook my knees.
We stood just beyond a frost-trimmed orchard where a soft wind carried away the last of the glitter. Built from pale limestone and rich mahogany beams, the stable was vast, with a high, arching cathedral roof. Sunlight filtered through iron-latticed windows, catching on drifting dust motes and the slow rise of warm breath in the chill morning air. Ponies of varying colors grazed in a lush pasture fenced by gold. Palace grounds.
Jasher twined his fingers with mine and steered me to the entrance. I breathed deeply, taking in fresh hay, clean leather, oiled wood, and the musky sweetness of the animals themselves. Their coats exuded the soft smell of wild herbs and crushed clover, a perfume that clung to the straw-strewn floor and lingered in the rafters.
Two pegacorns—one flecked with red, pink, and purple, the other a shimmering azure—stood with quiet dignity, their powerful feathered wings folded neatly against their flanks. Their hooves gleamed as if coated with silver. Their tails swished. Eyes the color of stormy skies and dark river stone watched us with calm intelligence.
“Halt,” a voice called as we exited. Captain Rourke, our former guide.
My gaze shot upward. An entire contingent of armed guards lined the parapet above us, positioned over the palace entrance. Each one of them—over a hundred, at least—trained an arrow on us.