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)
When we come to the doors, a priestess is waiting. “For you,” she says, handing Misha a rolled-up sheet of paper.
He tucks it into his vest. “Thank you, and all my thanks to the Jewel.”
“Long may she live,” the priestess murmurs.
When she opens the door for us, Misha’s sentinels are waiting with our horses at the bottom of the steps.
We’re still hand in hand as we descend the stairs.
“Have they been waiting here the whole time?” I ask.
Misha shakes his head, confirming my suspicions.
“How did they know we were coming?” I ask.
“Those who are closest to me allow me to speak into their minds.” He shoots me a look. “That is, those who don’t keep their minds locked down like a steel cage.”
I shrug. “You’re the one who taught me to guard my mind.”
“If you trust me, you can guard it and still let me in,” he says.
“Trust doesn’t come that easily for me.”
He squeezes my hand. “I’m realizing that.”
We reach the bottom of the steps, and I allow him to help me onto my horse before I think better of it. He doesn’t linger, though, and moments later he’s mounted his and we’ve begun our trek back to the castle.
I glance over my shoulder for one last look at the sanctuary before focusing on the trail ahead of me. “Is that place a doorway to another realm?”
“The Jewel of Peace lives in a pocket realm. It’s how she stays safe when many may try to find a way to steal the power she’s gained through her years.”
I shiver. “It felt . . . wrong to be in there.”
“I never cared for it, either. I think it’s a step closer to the Twilight and our bodies resist it for that reason.” He turns to me, hands on the pommel of his saddle. “Are you okay?”
I swallow, trying to imagine how Jasalyn would feel about what we learned. She already believes Mordeus is alive and plans to kill him. That’s the only reason why I’m here next to Misha and not her. “I’m okay,” I say. “Did you have the same thought I did? About a connection between the faceless plague and Mordeus?”
“I did.” His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the pommel. “I’ll get in touch with your sister. She needs to know.”
“You think it’s true, then? You think he’s back?”
“Magic is life. Life is magic. Mordeus never hesitated to use others for his own means. If he found a way to extract the life force from those fae in order to feed his own, he would.”
“But what about the second half—what kind of fae has the power to revive a body after death?” I ask.
He scrapes a hand over his face. “I don’t know. None of the necromancers I’ve met could perform true resurrections. They could bring someone back for a moment or two if they got to them quickly enough after their death, but at the end of those moments, the dead remain dead. Their bodies are rotting even as they speak.”
“While we figure out who could revive Mordeus’s body, we need to stop the faceless plague. If people are still dying and there’s a connection, it must mean the resurrection of his spirit isn’t complete.” I’m thinking out loud and shouldn’t. Jas would keep her ideas to herself.
“My thoughts exactly, but that’s why Abriella needs to know about the connection. If we can figure out the cause, then maybe we can stop it.” He drags a hand through his hair. “And we need something that belonged to Mordeus.”
“You still plan to see the witch? Even though you believe he’s back?”
“Operating on assumptions—even strong ones—is foolish when we have the tools we need to get the answers. I’m sure Finn can identify something in that palace that was important to his uncle.”
“Probably.” I should ask to go to the palace myself to retrieve it. That’s what Jas would do, isn’t it? But facing Abriella makes me nervous and—
“What we need,” Misha says, “is Mordeus’s seer. The Jewel kept talking about the foresight necessary to plan something like this, and I’d like to know just what he was told. That may be the only way to find his necromancer.”
“Aren’t seers notoriously vague and contradictory?”
“They are. Trust me, my niece has the sight, and if you aren’t sure how to proceed on something before you speak with her, you’ll be even more baffled after.” He laughs to himself. “I’ll ask Finn about that too.”
“Good idea,” I say, but I don’t think Finn’s going to be able to help him. If Mordeus knew he was going to die and had the foresight to plan for his own resurrection, I doubt a seer was behind it.
That sounds like the work of an oracle.
When we stop, we’re not at Castle Craige but in the bustling little village in the foothills around the castle.