Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
“As it should.”
I cut him a sharp look. “That’s reassuring.”
Nektas laughed, and I kind of wanted to hit him as I looked away. I didn’t want to even think about the idea of love. It was easier to acknowledge that I cared for Nyktos. Cared deeply. But that wasn’t love. And this was a conversation I didn’t want to continue.
I glanced over the hills and the pendulous branches full of flowers dancing just inches from the ground. “Does the entirety of the Vale look like this?”
“Some common areas resemble this,” he answered. “But for the most part, the Vale is ever-changing, accommodating a soul’s ideal paradise and becoming whatever they desire.”
“Wow,” I murmured.
“All aspects of a soul’s needs and wants are met in the Vale, even what they see. Arcadia is much the same.” He shifted on his saddle. “Look to your right and up, toward the skies. Do you see it?”
I followed his instructions, squinting until I saw shimmering mist gathering along the hills. “The mist?”
“It’s called the Shroud,” he said. “It’s made of Primal mist and hides the Vale from those who do not enter through more traditional means.”
As in, by dying.
The farther we traveled along the diamond road, the more I began to notice the mist gathering, clumping together to obscure all that lay beyond. Just like on the way to the Pillars, the Shroud steadily crept closer to the road, and in the silence, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would enter the Vale upon my death if Nyktos’s plan didn’t work. Or would I find eternal peace in Arcadia if his plan did succeed? Did the Primal embers truly make up for the not-so-mortal morality? Or would it simply come down to Nyktos intervening upon my death and ensuring I found peace instead of punishment?
I shivered at what now felt like morbid thoughts, which was odd. I’d thought of death a lot in the past, having accepted that it was an inevitable outcome, sooner rather than later. But now, thinking about death even felt different. A too-soon end that I no longer accepted because there was hope. A possible future that offered a—
A soft hum drew me from my thoughts. My brow pinching, I looked to my right. The sound wasn’t a hum. It was a voice. Voices. Singing. My grip on Gala’s reins loosened and then firmed as I strained to hear the words. They were in a different language, one that felt ancient, and the embers buzzed in response to it. But the sound—the voices and the melody… They were a prayer. A celebration. Haunting as the voices rose and fell, beckoning. Tears filled my eyes. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
Nektas suddenly grabbed my reins, halting Gala. “Stop.”
“What?” I whispered hoarsely.
“You’re getting too close,” he warned, features drawn. “You can’t go there.”
“Go where…?” I sucked in a startled breath, realizing I was mere feet from the Shroud, closer to the soft harmony. Blinking back the tears, I looked at Nektas. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” He tugged gently on the reins, steering Gala to the center of the road. “You hear their songs?”
I nodded, heart thumping. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s the sirens singing.”
“Sirens?”
“They are the guards of the Vale, and they’ve sensed us.”
My attention slowly shifted back to the mist. “Why are they singing?”
“Only the draken and those who’ve Ascended can travel into the Vale,” he said. “Whenever they sense something that shouldn’t be this close, they sing to lure the trespassers into the Shroud. Not even you with Primal embers would survive that.”
Skin chilled, I looked down at my white-knuckle grip on the reins and then Nektas’s hand as the sirens kept singing. His fingers remained curled firmly around the reins and stayed there.
Hours later, the sirens finally stopped singing. Nektas had released his hold on my reins, and the rigid tension eased from my muscles. I ached all over from holding myself back. I’d come close to leaping from the saddle and entering the Shroud one too many times. Not even snacking on the jerky Nektas had brought with him had helped, and food was normally the ultimate distraction.
And I would have to experience that again on the way out.
I wasn’t looking forward to that at all as we crested a hill, but all thoughts of the sirens and their call slipped away as a rocky horizon rose ahead. It was a mountain with sheer, vertical cliffs made of pure shadowstone and something else—something that glittered crimson under the sun, reminding me of Nektas’s hair.
“Good gods, I really hope we don’t have to climb that thing,” I said. “If so, I think I’ll take my chances with the sirens.”
Nektas chuckled. “Luckily, the Pools of Divanash are beneath.”
“Beneath all of that?” The mountain was a fortress of stone, an imposing sight amidst all the beauty.