Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Cael . . . please. Healing is everything to you.”
I close my eyes and breathe out deeply. “Maybe they’re right. I don’t have enough magic. Only pure linea have enough.”
“Stop it. No matter how little you have of it, you wield your magic well.”
“If I had more . . . If my magic were better . . . Maybe then I could be a proper healer. But—”
The ground trembles and leaves shush around our ankles—a soft warning before . . .
A sudden savage shaking has us clutching one another, trying to keep our balance. We can barely stay upright as the world shifts and snaps in all directions.
Dust puffs from brick walls and canal water slaps angrily against the banks. Sheep bleat in wild panic, and in the distance, aklas and aklos rush into Frederica’s courtyard, shouting to be heard over the tremors.
It’s not the first time the ground has stirred, but this feels wrong. The sharpness of it, its violent persistence, and the rhythm. It’s . . . disjointed, like a sick pulse—or a frightened one.
A tree tips in the distance, toppling with a groan, and the one over us rains crimson leaves.
I press a hand to the earth, the quakes vibrating through my palm, through me. It can’t be magic, can it? No mage would do this—why would they harm the earth that they draw their power from?
And yet, dread writhes in my gut: this doesn’t feel natural.
When it all jerks to a sudden halt, Akilah and I rush towards the manor. The people of Frederica’s household are shaken, but otherwise unharmed. They check the integrity of the walls and when it’s deemed safe, we head inside.
Frederica is in crisis mode, sending aklas out for supplies and aklos to deliver urgent messages to the capital. Akilah and I trundle sacks of oats and potatoes in wheelbarrows from neighbouring farms to our storerooms. Collect canvas sheets and tenting poles. Shift well water to storage barrels set around the manor. All morning and afternoon, we work amidst lighter shakes of the earth.
In the early evening, while Akilah is taking a few minutes break slumped in exhaustion in the shade outdoors, I head to the dining-turned-disaster-planning room. Frederica looks up from a cluttered table.
“Anything else we can do?” I ask.
She sets down her wax seal. “The last time the earth shook like this, we had thousands come here for shelter. One can never fully prepare for that. We’ve stocked food. We have canvas for tents.”
She lifts an envelope and looks at me over the top of it. Her gaze strays behind me and snaps to mine again. “Now we need voluntary vitalians.”
I step back with a loud snick of my boot heels against her wood floors. “I—I can help gather herbs and concoct teas for the volunteers. I can clean buckets, wipe blood. Keep the sick company.”
“Can you tend the wounded?”
My breathing quickens. What if more die because I overlook something? What if Akilah or my little nieces are the ones made to face the consequences with me?
I shake my head and rock back another step.
An unfamiliar aklo rushes past me and bows his head to Frederica. “The dam has cracked—landslides are blocking all roads into Castorvra. The people there are trapped.”
“Water will fill the entire valley,” Frederica murmurs fearfully. “What routes can be used?”
“The cliff path I took is still wide enough for a horse, but the ground is unstable. The canals are our best chance, but we need more boats. And . . .”
“And?”
Aklo bows his head again. “Some are wounded. They can’t be moved until their injuries are tended.”
I stumble another few backwards steps until I’m grabbed around the hip and a growling voice in my ear has all my senses prickling, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I whip around to Quin, still loosely holding my hip, staring down at me with intense disappointment.
“How long have you been here?” flies out of my mouth.
“Long enough.” His hands move quickly, blurring with speed. He tugs me by the cloak, pulling me towards him until our noses almost collide. As I suck in a shocked breath that tastes of his familiar mystical scent, his fingers jab my forehead, then my chest three times, each one a dose of power that swells inside as it breaks my sealed magic open. Fizzing heat cascades through my veins and I buckle under the force of it. My hand instinctively reaches for balance—
Quin pulls his cane back a few inches and I crumple to the floor.
I glower up at him.
He glowers back, then looks past me to Frederica.
“I came as soon as I got your message. I have men and supplies. I’ve sent boats in for the villagers, but to give them time to get out I must get to the dam. We’ll have to go over the pass. We’ll ride out immediately.”