Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
I recognise the aklo’s belt, studded with silver, and then his face—once haughty and flirtatious, now . . . almost unrecognisable. Those eyes that had appreciated the black knight’s form—blinded by nails. Bile climbs up my throat. It takes effort and clenched fists to swallow it down.
The high duke whispers in an aklo’s ear, gesturing to someone on the other side of the violet oak, then beckons us closer until our toes touch the smeared blood. He looks at us, at me, as a pair of redcloaks moves forward to polish the floor. “This is what happens to those I can’t trust.”
The glint in the high duke’s eyes has my stomach tightening again.
“To pass this examination, you must complete a transplantation spell. I have, therefore, designed such a test. Chiron will assess the technical aspects of your performance and determine the final grade. Should you pass, you can continue to work in the royal apothecary as a complex-medius mage. Should you fail . . .” He lets it hang a few beats, stroking his beard.
I glance at the floor that once again reflects the sparkling oak—as if nothing has happened.
The high duke chuckles. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to kill you.” He gives a signal, and the aklo reappears from around the violet oak. Behind him—I suck in my breath. Megaera.
My senses are on alert as she rounds to the high duke and turns her gaze on me. There’s no surprise in her eyes, just a deep, dark void.
The pulsing, numb-like pain that comes off her in waves is my fault.
“My akla has helped me design this task. I was after something . . . special, you see. With her extensive knowledge of your background, she provided me with the solution.”
The blood drains from my face. I feel it, along with my chest, drop out of my feet.
I look at her lifeless expression.
The high duke signals again, and a redcloak drags in—
“Akilah!” I scramble towards her, heart pounding as I scan her bruised body. She looks at me, eyes glimmering before she shakes her head in warning.
“Stand back.” The high duke throws a nail, and she cries out; I move faster until—
“It’ll be her other shoulder next.”
I halt, my vision swimming with red, with the pounding need to help.
Magic escapes me, uncontrolled, earthy. I clench my fists and force it back inside. My fracturing composure is bringing a smile to the high duke’s face, a sickening light to his eyes. “What do you want?”
“You have become . . . obstructive.” He knows it was me who transfused the king’s blood into the wyvern. “Akla has been very good. She’s told me all about how you snuck out of the royal city with my nephew.”
My heart skips sickly. What does this mean for Quin? What should I do? What would Quin do?
Act.
I raise my chin. “I’m a green-sashed mage, of insignificant family. Why would the ruler of this kingdom sneak around with me?”
The high duke combs his beard again, muffling a sinister laugh. “You claim she’s lying?”
“Only that she’s mistaken.”
Megaera steps forward sharply but the high duke holds up a hand. “You are indeed bold. Akla, bring him in.”
Megaera stares hard at me and then pivots to the doors. I hold back a hard swallow and try to determine how badly injured Akilah is—from this distance, and without the aid of magic. Her back shudders on every intake of air. Breathing is painful for her.
Another figure enters the nave, and I sag.
“I take it you recognise the capital’s high judge?”
The judge bows to the duke and fixes his gaze on me. “That’s the brat who dared challenge me.”
“And who,” the high duke asks, looking right at me, “was this brat with?”
“Your nephew interceded.”
“Are you sure?”
“He showed me his face. Threatened me.” The judge scowls and turns back to the high duke, falling to his knees. “I deserve punishment. I have now learned that this boy is an Amuletos. Years ago, I executed an Amuletos for using banned spells during the rose-ring outbreak. He begged me at the time to spare the rest of his family; he had once saved my sister, so I conceded. This shows how wrong I was to do so.”
Anger and pain leak out of me. The high duke smiles smugly. I try to suck it back in, but I can’t. Grandfather . . .
I squeeze my eyes shut. River at the guillotine. Grandfather under the same blade.
“Rise. You made reasonable decisions and showed mercy. No punishment. Aklo, see the judge out.”
As the judge bows again, the duke’s eyes flash with the promise of terror, and then he lets it go and laughs. “My nephew thinks he’s clever, but you’re only clever if you get away with it.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “If his father were here, he’d be truly disappointed. Let’s get to the exam, shall we?”