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)
Yes, the cuffs were supposed to give off some sort of repellent frequency.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am that Xalbia is almost over,” said Lear. “I’ll admit, there were times I wasn’t sure I’d get this far.”
“I think every candidate has had those moments,” waged Reeve, “thought they might not all admit it. I doubted myself a couple of times.”
“Xalbia is designed to make you do that.” I paused as the breeze fanned us again, stirring the high grass and fluttering my curls. “The officiates can’t see what we’re made of unless they first make us feel we’re going to fail. How we handle that is what’s important.”
Lear hummed. “It’s one big mental game, when you think about it.”
“At least you three can boast that your power hasn’t stayed dormant,” mumbled Sable. “It’s agony waiting for mine to finally show itself. Every time I see a Lykaon candidate shift into their wolf form, I want to punch them really, really hard. Spiteful, I know, but I’m feeling kind of mean these days.”
Reeve snorted. “You’re going to love shifting. Operating on all fours takes a little getting used to, but it’s awesome. It’s going to be hard not to smirk when I finally have an official Black Tapestry uniform,” the Nemean added, a note of excitement in his tone. “I can’t wait.”
“Moving into the barracks will be a relief,” said Sable. “I’m done sharing a space with males. Don’t get me wrong, most give a girl privacy. Others think it makes them big and tough to cause us to feel vulnerable.”
Lear sighed. “I considered finding a spot in the stables a couple of times, but the Laelaps scare me.” She paused. “They seem to like you, Anara.”
“They’re used to my scent,” I told her, pulling a face as I stepped onto a spongy clump of moss. “They attribute it with—” I cut off at a low rumble of thunder.
My brows dipped a moment later. Because no, it wasn’t thunder. It was a continuous rumble that wasn’t coming from the sky at all.
“Don’t tell me we’re being treated to an earthquake,” groused Reeve.
Halting, I shook my head, unease ghosting down my spine. I could swear that what we were hearing was the heavy beat of paws far behind us. Perhaps hundreds and hundreds of—
An alarm began to blare, drawing my attention to the city. I couldn’t yet see it, but I would bet my life that the torches this side of the battlement were being lit.
My heart lodged itself in my throat. “Run,” I bit out.
We tore across the meadow in the direction of the city. We were far too outnumbered to survive a battle against an entire army, so it would be senseless to make a stand. As Keyes had told us, there was no shame in running if it meant living.
A long, melodious howl filled the air. Then another. And another.
“Fucking hounds are back,” panted Lear, running alongside me.
More animalistic sounds soon rang out—sounds I recognized as belonging to the creatures of Deimos, who had clearly sensed the presence of the trespassers. I had no doubt that the beasts would swarm them, but some slippery hounds would manage to evade them. And they’d eventually stumble upon us in their bid to storm the city.
With that thought in mind, I picked up my pace. The others of my group were hot on my heels, their breaths as labored as my own.
We all skidded to a halt as we reached a river. Shit. I ducked under a hanging tree and strode to the water’s edge. Narrowing my eyes, I made out wispy shapes at the other side of the ravine. Shapes that I recognized as weathered trees of the dark forest. “We’re going to have to swim.”
Sable cursed. “We’re not going to make it back to the city before they catch up to us,” she said, a note of fear in her voice.
I stared down at the frothing, blood-red flowing current. “No, but we could maybe take some cover in the trees—or climb them.”
Reeve swallowed. “I don’t think the hounds are alone. I can hear hooves now. And war shouts.”
Very distinctive tribal war shouts. “The lapithae,” I rasped, picturing half-human, half-horse beings that resided in the Dark Lands.
A sound of distress escaped Sable.
Lear sidled up to me. “The hounds—”
“Can cross it, yes,” I finished, pulling my sheathed scythe from my back. “But it’s well-known that centaurs hate water. They’ll find another path to the forest, but it will at least slow them down.”
I tossed my weapon across the river, relieved when it landed safely on the gravelly bank. The other candidates did the same with their own weapons.
I took a deep preparatory breath, clamped my lips shut, and then jumped into the cold water. The shock of its icy temperature made me freeze for a few seconds. Then I was on the move, swimming against the current; skirting around boulders and reeds.