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)
Much like the stone walls banking either side of the rift bridge, blocks in this wall begin moving and sliding. I marvel at the impressive process as a passage opens. I can see now why Solange said there was no way in without an invitation.
“Where is the Prime?” she asks.
“Meeting with the guild council, Master Shadow,” a deep-voiced guard responds.
I stifle my curse. They’re all together. I had hoped to be able to meet the Prime alone.
“Very well. I will bring Master Scribe Agatha to her. You three may return to the docks.” Solange tosses the order over her shoulder and moves forward, assuming her Shadows will listen.
As one, Zander, Jarek, and Abarrane step forward toward the gate.
And just as quickly stop dead in their tracks, soft grunts slipping out.
I guess Solange wasn’t lying about that ward either.
“Master Shadow, a word before you go,” Zander calls out through gritted teeth as the three of them back away.
Solange pivots and, with a quick order to Fatima, she returns, ushering us farther back, away from prying ears. “You did not believe me. You had to see for yourselves, didn’t you,” she hisses. “How did that feel?”
“Fucking wonderful,” Jarek quips, pain lacing his voice.
She shakes her head. “I can assure you, I will not let anything happen to her. I have several Shadows to rely upon. Fatima will be of great aid. She is one of my most promising.”
“That newborn foal? You expect me to entrust Romeria’s protection to her?” Zander counters, venom in his voice.
Solange steps forward until they are inches apart. “I expect you to trust that I have been frank in my goals and that I well know we need this queen should we have any hope of surviving Malachi.”
“Stop fighting now or you’ll blow everything before we even get through the gate,” I whisper.
Zander steps back, his shoulders sinking. “Forget the Prime. Get the scribes through the stone.”
I frown at his hurried words. “But you said—”
“I know what I said, but that was before you were facing the entire guild alone. Mostly alone,” he amends. “The scribes are your priority. They do not deserve this punishment. We will find another way to deal with this Prime.” His hazel eyes meet mine and in them I see a silent apology for his words earlier. But I also see his doubt. He knows this isn’t the right plan, but he can’t push beyond his fear of losing me.
“We must go while we still have the element of surprise.” Solange dips her head. “I will meet you at the dock as soon as it is done.”
“And I’ll find you in Argon as soon as I can,” I promise.
“Make it fast. And Solange? While you are in there, we are out here with the guilds’ loved ones. If something should befall my loved one, I will not feel the same urge for diplomacy that she does.”
A not-so-subtle threat.
“Understood.”
I turn to give my back to the Shadows at the gate so I don’t have to guard my—Agatha’s—expression. “I’ll be fine,” I reassure him. “I know how to protect myself.”
“If something happens in there, I cannot get you out.” Desperation bleeds from his voice. “If it comes to it, use everything you have. Do not hesitate. There are too many people counting on you.”
“I won’t.” I wish I could hold him, touch him. Even just see his face again. “A kiss before we go?” I pucker my—Agatha’s—wrinkled lips.
A twinkle of humor stirs in his eyes. “I think that would raise a few alarms.”
I stifle my snort. “Probably.”
He moves forward a step, dropping his voice. “Promise you will return to me.”
“Deception is what I’m good at, remember?” With a wink to mask my trepidation, I rejoin Solange.
Together, we walk through the passage and into the Casters’ Guild.
22
Tyree
I grit my teeth as a jagged rock digs into my heel. Those blasted sailors could have had the decency to redress me after they robbed me. Not that they expected me to survive the plunge into the siren-infested waters, let alone need boots to traverse a stony peninsula on some island for hours. But if I ever see Captain Aron again, I’ll enjoy returning the favor, beginning with my blade slicing through his bare toes.
“Thirty-two,” Annika whispers.
“What are you counting? The times you’ve thought to stab me in my back with that dagger?” I joke.
“The ships,” she snipes. “The urge to stab you is at least thrice that.”
“And yet you didn’t kill me when you had the most perfect opportunity.”
“There will be more. I have faith.”
I bite my tongue against the impulse to goad her. Annika’s temper erupts faster than a young man with a whore’s practiced hand on his cock. But I’m not a fool to think it’s because she favors me. Until there are signs of other life, I am her only companion.