Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Ambrose sits back, a crease forming between his brows as he taps his chin in thought.
Beck lets out a low whistle, giving me a look like he's seeing me for the first time.
Mireen's pace as she braids my hair slows and eventually stops as the story hits the most dangerous parts.
"Gods, Nessa," Mireen says. "I thought all the stories I was hearing were bullshit. People were even talking about it in the dining hall. Someone said you gave Rector Voss the finger as you rode away on a water dragon."
I grin. "I’ve never even seen the Rector, let alone made vulgar gestures at him.”
"So Malakai was just… on the raft with you when you woke up?" Beck asks. "Did he try to come at you again?"
I consider lying, but I think my friends deserve to at least know what we're dealing with when Malakai is concerned. "He… seemed to think I saved him, somehow."
Beck tilts his head. "But you didn't."
"No," I say quickly. "Not exactly, at least." I sigh as their faces darken. "I managed to kind of snare him to the lake floor during the fight. When I saw the creature coming for him, I just couldn't bring myself to keep him trapped. I know he has done terrible things. I know he's a terrible person. But… there wasn't time to think. Some part of me just didn't want to be involved, so I let the spell go. I honestly thought we were both dead anyway, and maybe I didn't want my last act to be helping somebody die a terrible death, I—” my voice cracks and I realize how fast I've been talking. My hands are trembling in my lap and my throat feels raw with guilt. Of all the secrets I'm holding from my friends for their own safety, this isn't one of them. Even as shame threatens to overwhelm me, it feels good to let it out.
Mireen gives my arm a soft squeeze. "Hey. This place brings out the worst in us. I think Malakai deserved whatever he was about to get, but you can't blame yourself for wanting to be a bit of light in all this darkness. And we certainly don't blame you for it. Right?" She looks at Beck and Ambrose, who bulge their eyes and shake their heads quickly.
"No," Beck says. "Don't blame you one bit. So you're not a murderer. Big deal. We still like you."
"I think it's admirable," Ambrose agrees. "Maybe your mercy will make Malakai reconsider the way he's been acting."
"I don't think so," I admit. "The last thing he said was how nothing between us changed.”
"Asshole," Mireen mutters. She looks like she wants to hunt him down and drown him herself, and I love her just a little more for it.
There's a lull in the conversation before Ambrose leans in closer, eyes lit with interest. "The creature you saw... what did it look like, exactly?"
"Kind of like a giant sea serpent mixed with a dragon, maybe? It was dark, though. I only saw bits and pieces. And it was huge, with blue eyes."
"Fuck," Ambrose whispers.
"What?" Beck says.
"It's just that not many elementals could fit a description like that. To be so large and take such a powerful shape… It sounds like one of the ancients, but it also sounds like it has gone rogue."
"You told me about that," I say. "Elementals driven mad by broken tethers or the death of their tethered humans, right?"
He nods. "But I've never heard of one of the ancients tethering a human. Something that powerful going rogue is… dire. And how the hell is it here? How is it in our world swimming around Mirror Lake?"
I think about the dreams I've been having—the sense that I'm being hunted and the predator has been drawing closer with each dream. And then, for the first time in weeks, I think about the storm I called back in Saltcrest three years ago. The storm that I accidentally drew in. The storm that killed my brothers and my father. The memory hits me like a physical blow, making my chest constrict painfully.
Did I survive only to draw in an even bigger storm here? A storm in the form of an ancient rogue elemental? The death of the three I'd seen eaten beneath the waters suddenly rushes in to pile on my back, heavy with the weight of guilt.
"I'm not sure," I say quietly.
The others shift the topic of conversation to Confluence Day, but my mind lingers on the rogue elemental.
An instinct I can't describe tells me I haven't seen it for the last time. There's a kind of connection between us. With a sudden certainty that turns my insides to ice, I know when I'm going to see it next. A shiver runs down my spine as my gut twists with dread.