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)
His eyelids flutter, and he groans softly.
Panic bubbles in my chest. I look around me for anything I can use. Grandfather sometimes used blue-snake venom to fight poisons, but it wasn’t a cure—just a temporary fix. And I don’t even know if it will work here.
I press a hand against his arm, funnelling magic into his acupoints to ease his pain and slow the poison’s spread. He flinches but doesn’t resist.
“Don’t sleep,” I tell him, slapping his cheek gently.
His eyes flicker open. “Off with his head . . .”
“Good, keep talking. Stay awake.”
“Seriously . . . off with his head.”
“Sure, we’ll do that later. First, I need you to count all the purple leaves on the tree above you. Every single one. Okay?”
Nicostratus groans again, but his lips twitch faintly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Start counting,” I insist, pulling myself to my feet.
It takes twenty minutes to find the right rocks and another ten to locate a nest of blue-snakes. My heart pounds as I crouch a few feet away, watching the writhing tangle.
“They’re not deadly,” I whisper to myself. “Just painful. Very, very painful.”
Grandfather’s voice echoes in my mind, calm and steady. You’ll be fine, he seems to say.
I steel myself, shut my eyes, and thrust my hand into the mass of snakes.
Pain explodes through my arm as fangs pierce my skin. I yank my hand back, cradling it as venom burns through my veins.
The trek back to Nicostratus is agony. My legs feel like lead, and each step sends fresh waves of weakness crashing over me. The sun sinks lower, shadows lengthening across the forest floor.
Finally, I see him lying in the grass, staring up at the leaves.
“Three thousand two hundred and eleven,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Wasn’t sure you’d come back.”
I drop to my knees beside him, tears stinging my eyes. “Of course I came back.”
Nicostratus doesn’t reply, but he watches as I summon blue mist into my palms. The venom swirls within the spell, cooling and solidifying into icy needles.
I pull his shirt down, baring his chest.
“What are you—”
“Trust me.”
He cries out as I press the needles into the five acupoints around his heart, his body arching.
I hold my breath, watching for any sign that it’s working. His pulse steadies, and colour begins to return to his face.
He lurches upright with a gasp, his hand clutching mine.
“You really scared me,” I whisper, tears finally spilling over.
He lets out a weak chuckle, his hand still gripping mine. “I’m fine now.”
“I’m not. I almost killed a prince!”
Nicostratus winces. “How’d you figure it out?”
“You said you’re a part of the royal entourage. And you saved me from the wyvern. I saw it.”
“Keep quiet about it?” He scans the darkening sky and the clearing we’ve landed in. “We should shelter here. This oak . . .”
I slip inside the hollowed trunk with him, too young to know this moment is the beginning of everything.