Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Small flickers of it dotted the forest ahead, glowing softly against the deepening gray of the afternoon. They appeared to float among the trees, some high in the branches, others hovering only a few feet above the snow-covered ground.
Dravic slowed his horse. “What are those?”
Ernach glanced toward the lights as if there was nothing unusual about them. “They mark the way to Thorskaill.”
“Torches would do the same.”
“They would.”
Dravic waited for more, but none came.
He frowned at the older man. “What are they?”
Ernach smiled. “Lights.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why did you ask?” Ernach chuckled, shaking his head.
Dravic’s arm tightened around Adira as his patience did the same.
A soft chuckle came from somewhere behind him as well.
“Whoever finds that amusing can spend the night outside the village.”
Silence followed.
Adira looked up at him, the movement drawing his attention. There was amusement in her eyes, sensing a bit of glee in Ernach’s expression, though she wisely kept it from reaching her smile.
“You as well?” Dravic accused.
Her lips pressed tightly together, seeing the king was annoyed.
Dravic shook his head and looked ahead again.
The lights grew more numerous as they traveled, illuminating a path that had become increasingly difficult to distinguish beneath the freshly fallen snow. No flame burned within them, nor did they appear attached to anything. They simply floated there, casting a faint glow over the ground.
Dravic did not like what he could not explain. And there seemed to be far too much in Driochmor he could not explain.
Adira appeared to feel differently. She watched the lights with fascination, turning her head as they passed each one. Once, one of the small glowing orbs drifted closer, hovering near her shoulder before rising suddenly and disappearing among the branches.
She smiled. Of course she did. Everything about Driochmor seemed to delight her. The thought lingered longer than Dravic cared for it to.
She had been happier since entering this strange land. He had noticed it in the forest when she wandered among the trees, in her fascination with things everyone else approached cautiously, and now in the pleasure shining in her eyes as she watched the strange lights.
It should have pleased him. Instead, it left him oddly unsettled.
“Thorskaill,” Ernach announced.
Dravic’s attention shifted ahead.
The forest opened gradually rather than ending abruptly, revealing cottages scattered among the trees as if the village had been built around the forest instead of clearing it away. Some stood close enough to enormous trunks that Dravic wondered how the roots had not pushed through their stone walls. Others disappeared partially beneath heavy growths of vines that remained inexplicably green despite the winter cold.
Warm lights glowed from windows and smoke rose from chimneys. Nothing about the village appeared threatening. Yet the moment they were spotted, everything stopped.
A man carrying an armload of wood halted halfway across the path. Two women standing beside a cottage ceased their conversation and turned. A child who had been running after another child was snatched up by a woman and hurried inside.
Doors began to close. Not all of them, but enough.
Dravic scowled. “They know who I am?”
Ernach glanced at him. “Word travels quickly in Driochmor.”
“Apparently faster than fairies.”
“I heard that!”
Fiora’s voice came from somewhere behind them, though Dravic could not see her. He did, however, ignore her.
More villagers had gathered now, though none approached. They stood near cottages or along the path, watching the king’s troop enter their village with expressions that ranged from suspicion to open displeasure.
No one bowed.
Seger moved his horse closer. “My king—”
“Do nothing.”
Seger looked at him. “They show you no respect.”
“I can see that.”
“They should bow to their king.”
“And forcing them to their knees will earn me what?”
Seger said nothing.
Dravic continued forward.
Adira felt the difference in him. His arm remained around her, his body seemingly relaxed behind her, but she had come to know him well enough to recognize when his thoughts were busy. His gaze moved everywhere, taking in faces, cottages, the men standing protectively near their families.
She wondered what he saw that she did not. Then a sound slipped into her silence.
A voice.
She stiffened. It was gone before she could grasp the word. She searched the faces around them, desperate to know where it had come from, but too many mouths moved at once as villagers spoke among themselves.
Another sound reached her, then nothing.
Dravic’s fingers touched her chin.
She looked up.
His brow furrowed.
He had felt her tense.
Adira smiled and gave a small shake of her head, but this time his eyes remained on hers. He did not believe her.
Before he could question her further, Ernach spoke.
“That will be Merek.”
A broad-shouldered man was making his way toward them. Age had streaked his dark hair with gray, but there was nothing frail about him. He walked directly toward the king without hesitation and stopped several paces from Dravic’s horse.
He did not bow.
Dravic waited.
So did Merek.
The silence between them stretched until Seger shifted impatiently in his saddle.