Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
He means . . . Nicostratus. He only wanted word.
There’s a taut silence in the air between us. I clear my throat and quickly break it. “What will you do now?” I ask. “Will this help you escape?”
He shakes his head. “This provides communication. Leaving here though, I’ll need another way. I won’t let my men be cut down. I need them for more important missions.”
“Recover,” I say. “I’ll help you.”
I move towards the door but he grabs my wrist. “Don’t do anything rash.” His grip is firm enough I can feel each one of his braids and the pound of my pulse.
“I have to go. My companions will be worried.”
He slowly loosens his fingers and drags them off me. I’m afraid I’ll feel the tickle of this last touch all day.
Quin says something and the wyvern jumps from the table to become a puddle at his feet.
Just as I reach the door, he murmurs, and the soft sound of it, the intensity of that softness . . .
“Come back tonight, Haldr.”
When I enter the courtyard, Megaera throws me an arched brow and pauses in her step. She’s carrying a steaming bowl of . . .
“Is that my scription for inflamed sinuses?” I recognise the sharp scent.
She nods in the direction of the west bedchamber. “See how the mighty have fallen.”
There’s some background groaning at this, and Megaera’s lips twitch.
“Both?”
“Felled by a sore throat.” She gestures to the bowl. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I come closer and take a whiff. “Excellent.”
“Praise yourself. I follow instructions to the letter.” She eyes me.
I stiffen, but she strides off, calling over her shoulder. “Don’t end up hurt.”
Megaera is spoon feeding uncle and nephew when I’ve changed into fresh clothes and repacked my bag, and she does it with such tenderness I shiver guiltily. That I ever once hesitated.
I take her spot at the bedsides and read their pulses. “Mild. With rest, they’ll recover in a few days.”
“Mild!” Lykos says indignantly, and Megaera holds out her wrist for me to read.
“You’ve the same thing.”
Megaera’s sly blow-kiss has Lykos spluttering as he tries to sit up. He palms his forehead against a headache, but behind his forearms he’s smiling.
Zenon, on the next bed, groans loudly and declares it feels so bad he can’t do any lessons today. The naughty side-eye to his uncle has me shaking my head.
“Quite the handful you have here.”
Megaera lifts a bowl of herring porridge—Zenon’s least favourite food—and comes over, smiling. “Of course you can’t study today. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you. Eat up. There’s more for lunch, and I’ll make a fresh batch for dinner, too.”
Zenon springs into a sitting position. “Actually, I could do some studying from the bed.”
She pats his head, to Lykos’s burst of laughter. “And if you suddenly feel better, we can check out the parade.”
I leave them to their familial banter and head to my aunt, who embraces me with a herb-scented hug and another letter from home. “It just arrived, I haven’t opened it yet. She doesn’t usually send them so close together.”
I sit on the bench behind our herb grinding table and stare at the paper. “You read it.”
My aunt pushes it back to me. “Call it a sixth sense. This news is for you.”
I open it nervously. The letter is short, and it does seem like my mother’s hoping I’m here. Like she wants me to know.
Since I last wrote, something has happened. Florentius and some other vitalian scholars have been sent to participate in the Medicus Contest. Apparently, this contest was delayed due to some leadership instability in Hinsard, and it’s been big talk in the capital because this year, anyone under the age of twenty-five may enter—no matter if they are non- or par-linea.
Hearing this, Akilah finally rediscovered her spirit. She begged Florentius to stay, or if he must go that she go with him, but he told her it was safer here.
This morning we woke to find Akilah gone. She packed her most precious things and left. I just know she’s following him, and I pray if he’s unable to send her back that he is able to keep her safe.
I will write again when I have news.
All my love.
I hand the letter over for my aunt to read.
“I’m right,” she murmurs. “It was for you.” She tucks the letter into my belt. “The regent must have an agenda.”
I grimace. “I’m sure he believes it a chance to put us in our place again. Prove we should stop chasing after chances we’re not qualified for.”
Had losing Eparch Valerius in Hinsard been the reason he’d lashed out on the island? Is it part of the reason he’s changed the rules for the contest? Why he insists on sending his best vitalians to represent the linea?
And now Akilah—spirited, stubborn Akilah—is heading straight into the heart of this. I picture her clinging to Florentius, begging him not to go, and my stomach knots.