Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“I call top bunk,” Remme says.
“Because you’re an idiot,” Skylar says. She meets my eyes. “You’re on top. I need my feet close to the ground.”
“Fine,” I mutter. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep anyway. And if Skylar finds out how I feel about the dark, she’ll probably paint the windows black and snuff out all the candles just to amuse herself.
You have your ring. You’ll be fine.
Remme, Skylar, and Natan grab their packs and head inside, but Kendrick brushes his knuckles against my shoulder, so I stay back.
He watches them and waits until they’re inside before looking at me. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. What are the chances she’ll kill me in my sleep?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Believe it or not, she doesn’t have it out for you. She’s just a little abrasive.”
“That’s like saying water is a little moist.”
This time I get a full-on smile. If my legs were unsteady before, the sight of those dimples makes them downright unreliable.
“Hold up a minute, okay?” He pulls his pack from his shoulder and digs around inside before drawing out a glowstone the size of my palm. “Take this. It will last all night.”
I stare at it. It’s a faint yellow in the evening sun, but in the dark, it will let off a buttery glow. It’s magic from Elora. From home. I swallow a lump of emotion in my throat. “Thank you.”
“Tell me again about this special sword,” I ask at dinner. The tavern is crowded tonight, and the five of us are crammed into a corner, bowls full of stew and hunks of bread in front of each of us.
Remme’s blade sings as he draws it from his sheath. “You see this?” he asks, turning the blade this way and that. “This blade was forged by the hand of the last true king of Elora, blessed by the priestess of the Oracle of Light, and passed down through the generations to fighters deemed noble enough to fight for the good of the land. This is a special sword. The Sword of Fire is the Sword. It can open portals to anywhere, bring strength to anyone who wields it, and guarantee your opponent’s defeat.”
I glance around the group to see if anyone is laughing, but they’re not. “There are so many things wrong with the nonsense you just spouted.”
“Nonsense?” Remme sputters.
“Here we go,” Natan says.
“Like what?” Remme says.
“The idea of you being deemed noble aside?” I say, “Elora has never had kings, so that sword couldn’t have been forged by its first, last, middle, true, or false king. We have the Magical Seven of Elora, and before them we ran as independent villages ruled by our own lords, all more or less unaware of each other.”
Skylar scoffs and glances toward Remme. “Sure, and you’re the one spewing nonsense.”
I press a palm to my chest. “Do you forget that I’m Eloran too?”
“I don’t forget,” Skylar says. “I just happen to know the history that the Elora Seven work so hard to keep hidden from the people of the realm.”
I choke out a laugh. “Oh, so now you’re going to tell me that the Magical Seven are the bad guys?”
Kendrick just watches me for a beat before nodding. “Yes,” he says. “If you want to know the truth.”
I shake my head at him. “The Magical Seven are the purest hearts in the land. They have to walk through the Fire Portal before they rise. Murderers don’t survive that.”
“It’s true,” Skylar says. “The Seven like to make a display of their holiness. That’s why they save their murdering for after they’ve taken their spots among the most powerful in the realm.”
The idea that the Magical Seven would kill anyone is ridiculous. “They are the only reason the fae didn’t take total control of us when the gates opened. They are the only reason our realm was protected from these monsters.”
“Monsters, huh?” Skylar says.
Kendrick’s gaze sweeps over me, landing on my arm where my scars are hidden beneath my glamour. “And how well protected were you?”
My skin goes clammy at the reminder—of my past, of the dungeons, of how easy it was for Mordeus to have his goblin sweep in and take me from my home. “That was because of the contracts,” I say, my voice weak.
“And if the Seven are so great, why are those unjust contracts so pervasive?” Kendrick asks.
“It’s not their fault. The system is broken. The—”
“It wasn’t before.” Kendrick’s eyes are kind, as if he understands that he’s asking me to rethink everything I ever believed.
“And who would you have lead?” I ask. “This old monarchy Remme seems to revere?”
“For starters,” Kendrick says, tearing off another piece of bread. “I would have someone lead who wants what is truly best for all in the realm and not just the strongest magic users among them. I would have someone lead who would listen to the voices of a representative from every territory in the realm—not just the wealthiest. I would have someone lead,” he says, his voice even harder now, “who wasn’t so preoccupied by greed that they let children be sold into servitude every day.”