Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
He looks straight through me, his smile growing. “He always finds me.”
Gods, you infuriating, impossible man. You say it like it’s a game.
I laugh and glare at him. “It is a game.”
The memory slips away in a shimmer of gold and the snick of the door. I’m back in the haphazard manor. The rune door in the armoury pulses next.
I press my hand to it. In we go.
I’m not surprised to find it’s Nicostratus’s memory. He’s with his brother in the capital’s busy market. I zig zag through passersby, trying to get closer.
Nicostratus is eyeballing his brother with a smirk. “I’ve never seen you hum and ahh so long.”
Quin raises his chin, unbothered by the brotherly dig. “This is an important decision.”
“You declared war faster.”
“Now, don’t exaggerate.”
“I swear to the Arcane Sovereign it’s true. Your declaration on the obliteration of vegetables—”
Quin looks over sharply.
Nicostratus slings an arm around his shoulder, laughing, while Quin makes a decision and hands over silver pieces. I get there just in time to peek over their shoulders—
The stall has no shape, nothing telling me what it sells.
Whatever it is that Quin bought, it’s only a blur as it gets wrapped into fine cloth. Hard, maybe. Heavy enough for Quin to hold with two hands. I narrow my eyes, and flick Nicostratus in the ear. “You blurred that on purpose.”
I turn to Quin, who takes the wrapped purchase with reverence and a soft smile. And I can’t help it, I rise on tiptoes and kiss the memory of him on the cheek. “Whatever you’re holding is meaningful.”
Nicostratus speaks, “Is it for tonight?”
Quin raises a brow and says flatly, “Only if he finds me on time.”
I startle. This game of hide and seek has just become more competitive. And . . . it’s nightfall already. I have to hurry. The door shuts behind me with an excited thump and a gust of air that propels me towards the next—the library.
I enter the memory momentarily startled. I expected Pavilion Library, but . . . I seem to be on a rooftop, staring out at the edge of the capital, towards trees and cliffy hills in the distance.
Quin is leaning against a tall chimney and beside him, seated on tiles, is Skriniaris Evander. He smiles and looks over at Quin. “Remember he has no magic. He might be furious.”
Quin glances towards the rune door, as if he sees it, or knows that’s where Skriniaris Evander will place his door and wants to give me the impression he’s staring right at me.
He even smiles.
I catch a breath and balance on the roof, coming closer.
“He might be a little bit annoyed,” Quin says. “But only at first.”
“Be prepared for him cursing you.”
A twinkle hits Quin’s eyes. “One of the ways I like him best.”
Quin leaps off the roof and rides the wind into the distance, looking back over his shoulder with a curl of his finger.
I laugh, sharp and breathless, then press a hand to my chest.
You planned this, Quin. Every moment of it.
I hope you’re ready. Because I’m getting closer.
The final door gleams behind a bathtub, and I hurry through it.
Quin is on a horse near the tournament grounds and Akilah is handing him a basket. “I hope he’s smart enough to figure it out.”
Akilah, you sneak. You’re in on this too.
Quin picks up his reins with a quiet smile. “If he doesn’t, I’ll tease him mercilessly to next year.”
A volley of shivers come at the direct challenge.
I watch him steer his horse towards the narrow path up the cliff.
Oh, Quin. Game on. I know exactly where you are.
I wake with a start in Quin’s chambers and glance at the night sky outside. No time to waste.
I order a horse and ride hard to the tournament grounds and up the narrow, treacherous path, the same path I’d raced him up when Quin was Maskios. My horse protests at the third bend, and I feel it. A spell. A hurdle.
“Quintus!” I dismount and . . . there’s a trough of water and food here. Quin expects me to leave my horse.
I pause. Of course he thought of everything.
On foot, I pass through the barrier, and each step upwards I make up new curses for my darling dearest.
This must be what Skriniaris Evander meant. This slog—climbing up, up, up, sweating something shocking. I almost want to fold and yell for him to carry me the rest of the way. But that . . . will also lead to endless, torturous teasing.
Finally. A glow of light, coming from the abandoned luminarium.
I mutter something extra special, and push up my sleeves.
Laughter rides the wind, barrelling into me before sweeping me off my feet. On the rounded open top of the dome, looking into the luminarium, Quin has placed a board that acts as a table, covered with plates of all my favourite foods. And to the side, that cloth-wrapped package.