Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Who’s there?” a thin voice calls out, pulling my attention to the far end, to the small pallet bed and the frail old woman with chalk-white hair seated upon it, the gold collar hanging off her skeletal neck. A cloudy gaze roams the space, not focused on anything. “Is that you?”
The simple question tugs at my memory. My father asked the very same thing the last time I saw him, on the streets of New York, squinting against the drizzle in search of his daughter’s face.
A sob wretches from Gesine, her face morphed with shock as she takes in her friend. The change between when she saw her last and now must be drastic. But she gives her head a shake and wipes her tears with quick strokes, gathering her composure. “It is me, dear Ianca.” She moves in to sit next to the old woman. They appear generations apart.
“My eyes, they are lost to me.” Ianca’s voice is sad.
Gesine collects Ianca’s shaky hands in hers. “I will be your eyes for you.”
There’s not much to see in here. It’s barely more than a furnished cell. My cage in the tower overlooking the execution square was bigger and brighter.
“And my mind. It comes and it goes, and it spins in circles, and it …” The end of the sentence ends in a garble I don’t catch.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” Sheyda stands in the open doorway, watching curiously.
“No, thank you, priestess.” Elisaf shuts the door, pulling it tight.
“A man … a man … there was a man on a horse …” Ianca frowns as if trying to pull memories. “Do I hear this man now?”
I can already see similarities between my father and Ianca—both elemental casters whose minds have fractured, as Sofie called it. The muttering, the repetition, the air of confusion that swirls around them. And yet there are stark differences. My father “broke” a decade ago. This woman, only a few weeks ago, and yet her body seems to be failing far more quickly.
“You are thinking about Ocher, the kind gentleman who brought you here. The man you hear now is named Elisaf. He is King Zander’s guard, and he is going to help me get you out of Bellcross.” Gesine strokes a wispy strand of hair off Ianca’s face with a tender touch. “We will not be separated again. Where I go, you go.”
“We will spend my last days in Mordain?” There’s no missing the hopefulness in Ianca’s voice.
Gesine’s composure cracks, her expression buckling with sorrow before she smooths it again. “We cannot go back, remember?”
“Yes, yes, yes. My mistakes, my mistakes.” Ianca hangs her head. “I can feel her in the room. So very powerful.”
Gesine’s eyes flicker to me. “That’s right. Princess Romeria is right here.”
“The princess who is not the princess. One left and another one came. She is not the same.”
“We know. We remember.”
“Hello,” I croak.
Ianca releases a long, slow sigh. “Aoife knows. She knows what he has done, and there will be retribution.”
Gesine falters. “You’ve seen something, then?”
The seer’s head bobs, and her frail body bobs with it. “When the second moon falls asleep and the sun awakes, all will suffer for what they have done.”
The hairs on the back of my neck lift with her ominous words. “What who has done?” Is she talking about Aoife and Malachi? Malachi and Sofie? Zander and me?
“The gilded doe has seen you, girl!” she shrieks, the sudden outburst startling me enough that I jump backward into Elisaf. “She has seen the ruin you will bring!” Her cloudy irises seem to bore into me as surely as if she can see me standing here. She peels her hands away from Gesine’s grip. “She will do whatever it takes! Whatever it takes! Whatever it takes!”
Who is she talking about? Who will do whatever it takes? Aoife, or me?
Ianca stabs the empty air in front of her with an accusing finger, her agitation growing by the second, until her words garble and her shoulders slump.
Gesine guides her frail body down to lie in bed. “That will soothe her for a few hours, at least.” She may be feigning calm, but her hands tremble.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I know I’m not.
She offers a tight smile. “I have experienced the mind of a seer before, but I have never watched someone I love unravel in such a way. It is unnerving.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Your father.” She nods slowly. “Yes, I imagine you do.”
I study the brittle seer on the bed. “How are we going to get her out of Bellcross? She can’t walk through the streets like that without drawing attention. And getting her through that secret passage in the wall? Not a chance.”
“She would not fare well in there, if she could manage the trek,” Gesine agrees.