Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Finally, I got to the end of the tunnel. I worried it would move again once I began to edge out of it—which would leave my upper body dangling as it rolled—but the tube remained in position, just as it had when I was first lodged myself inside it.
Once back on my feet, I groaned. Every part of me felt battered and bruised. My burns hurt even worse than before, and I was pretty certain that some of my scabbed-over wounds were now once more bleeding.
Two circuits left. You’re almost done.
With that thought in mind, I hobbled to the end of the passage, followed the sharp turn, shoved aside the hanging moss, and slammed into a wall of cold. That’s what it felt like. The change in temperature was that drastic.
The stone walls were covered in a sheet of ice. Snow blanketed the uneven ground. Icicles dangled from the arched ceiling. Small, sporadic bunches of hardy grass stuck out of the snow. A thick carpet of white topped the spires, totems, crumbled walls, and statues.
It would have been a pretty sight if the air wasn’t arctic.
What made the bitterly low temperature even worse was the shrieking, powerful wind. It whistled over the walls, ruffled the tufts of grass, and blew around snow so that it peppered the air like dust motes. As such, visibility wasn’t great.
I shivered, clasping my hands together. The only pleasant thing I could say about this circuit was that there were no awful scents here. Only the clean smell of fresh snow.
Having no wish to hang around this passage any longer than absolutely necessary, I immediately started forward. The gusts of wind stole the sound of snow crunching beneath my boots.
I could see faint footprints that hadn’t yet been filled with the falling snow. Someone had passed here very recently, so either I was making good time, they’d slowed down, or we were both moving too slowly.
My every exhale fogged the air as I walked. Air so crisp that it irritated my nostrils, throat, and chest to breathe it in.
Large and glittery flakes of snow pinged against my skin, hair, and clothes. They also found their way into my boots—not pleasant.
Shuddering, I raised my shoulders to my ears. My clothes were sadly no real barrier against the icy blades of the wind. That same wind pitilessly sliced at my exposed wounds, sharper than any knife.
I jammed my hands beneath my armpits to protect them from the cold, wishing I had my gloves with me.
I would never complain about the heat again.
I wondered what possible blockades and challenges I would come up against in this passage. Honestly, I doubted there was anything that could be more difficult to bear than the subzero temperature. That in and of itself was an obstacle.
Snow slid beneath my boot. I slipped, landing hard on my ass. Blinking, I let out a grunt. “Ow.”
My irritated exhale puffed the air like a plume of fog. Hadn’t I taken enough abuse from this damn place? Personally, I thought so.
Promising myself that I’d indulge in a long, hot bath when I returned to the garrison, I struggled to my feet. Maybe Talon would even let me use his tub—it was bigger than those in the bathhouses.
I slogged on, tromping through the snow. It was slow going, since I still wasn’t putting my full weight on my sore ankle. I flexed my fingers—painful tingles were streaking down all my extremities.
Spotting something blocking my path up ahead, I blinked hard to shake off the flakes of snow from my lashes. A wall. A floor-to-ceiling wall of pure ice.
How was I supposed to get past an actual wall?
Frowning, I picked up my pace to get a better look at it, stupidly almost tripping over a tuft of dead grass. Finally stood directly in front of the block of ice, I realized that there was a short gap at the bottom of it. As if a large animal had burrowed a hole into it or something.
Crouching, I pursed my dry lips. I could squeeze through it. I had to. It was that or hang out here and eventually die.
With that delightful thought in mind, I laid flat on my stomach on the ground, sucking in a sharp breath at the wintry feel of the snow pressed against my entire front. Better this than having to climb over it, though. I would struggle to traverse a wall right now. My fingers would be too clumsy due to the numbing cold.
I scooched forward little by little, easing my way under the hole. The spikes of frost on the wall scraped my skin, tugged at my hair, and plucked at my clothes. Finally through the gap, I rose to my feet. The wind smacked into my wet front, and a powerful shiver wracked my entire body.