Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
I ponder this new information. If the sirens sank a ship every three or four hundred years in search of their sacrifice and then left our waters, it’s not a wonder we didn’t know about them until they couldn’t find what they wanted and tormented us. “The elven stopped openly sailing the realms once the fear of the sirens took hold. That, and when our blood curse arrived and split our lands in two. Ybaris wanted nothing to do with the lands south of us for fear of infection.”
“Yes. The wraiths brought several of your kind to our shore, only to discover they were not truly your kind. When we realized the creature the infected turned into, we quickly cleansed the population of everyone they touched.”
“The prisoners at the gate. The ones they bled.” I nod, understanding now.
“They needed to be sure.”
“If the sirens wanted me, why did they save Tyree?” Annika asks, which is a good question. “He was not long for death when the sailors tossed him overboard. The siren did something to his wound that healed him.”
“The sirens cannot decipher between male and female. They bring all your kind to our shores. As for what they did, they are an interesting creature of the light, said to have fallen from grace and plagued by a curse of their own. If you were wounded by the shadow, their power can counter that.”
“You keep saying shadow and light. What does that mean?” Another very good question from Annika.
“The shadow is what lives inside you. And him.” Destry nods toward me. “It is what you were born with.”
A shout sounds outside, interrupting our conversation. A moment later, a dull thump hits one of the crates.
I recognize that noise. “Was that an arrow?”
Ezra barks something in his language and the horses speed up.
I pull back the curtain to see Ezra and Uda both holding shields up to protect their sides as we rush along the misty road.
Destry presses a hand against a loose crate by her head. “This road is known as Thievers Highway for a reason.”
“Then why did we take it?” Annika exclaims, panicked.
“Because my friend Ty said he wanted the fastest route.” She gestures at me. “This is the fastest route.”
“Not if we are dead!”
In the fog ahead, a row of forms materializes, their spears aimed upward.
Ezra yanks on the reins, and the horses skid to a halt with loud whinnies. A crate topples over somewhere in the wagon, and the distinctive sounds of glass shattering fills the air.
I slip back so these bandits can’t see me. “What will they do when they realize we only have honey?”
Destry is hunting for something within her tunic. “Take the horses and the wagon. Kill the men and keep the women for their enjoyment.”
Annika’s face twists with horror. “I would rather die.”
“But then who would I tease mercilessly?” I squeeze her shoulder as I steal another peek. Seven mortals. I can manage them easily enough. Slipping one of the daggers I confiscated from the guards out of my boot, I place the handle in Annika’s palm and whisper, “Try not to use this one on me, yeah?”
Her blue eyes flash with something I can’t read.
“You have a weapon, Destry?”
She doesn’t answer. Her head is bowed, her fist clasped around a pendant as if in prayer. That will do little, but if that is her only defense …
I leave a second dagger on the crate beside her. Quietly, I slip two swords from their scabbards.
A gruff voice sounds from our right, and I grit my teeth to avoid my curse. I can see what’s in front, but how many surround us? I cannot use my affinity blindly.
A crow caws, followed by another, and several more, until a deafening cacophony of squawks make me wince. Shouts sound. Through the curtain, I watch the large black birds swarm the bandits, pecking at their heads, their necks, their arms.
Annika’s fingertips dig into my calf, pulling my attention back. She nods toward Destry, and I see what has her so rattled. The tiny mortal’s hazel eyes have vanished, replaced by solid whites. In the slivers of skin peeking out between her thick bangs, the script glows.
She must be steering these crows. However she manages, the distraction is welcome. Now is my chance.
I grip my pommels. “Wish me luck.”
“Don’t die,” Annika rushes to say.
When I arch a questioning eyebrow at her, she shrugs. “You are still useful to me.”
“And you are still too stubborn to admit you do not hate me anymore.”
The corner of her mouth quirks in that cute way she has, when she’s trying not to smile.
An overwhelming bout of insanity claims me—that is the only explanation for leaning down and pressing a quick, hard kiss against Annika’s lips. I rush through the curtain before she has a chance to stab me with that dagger.