Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Chucky!” The queen screamed, kicking for freedom.
Drendall scrabbled over the table, evading the strike. Laughing, she shoved all the maps to the floor.
Guilt pricked Viori as utter chaos erupted, and she almost cried out, alerting her husband to her plan. Would Micah consider this another betrayal? Would he hate her for the rest of eternity?
Did it matter? He would live, and she would gain an opportunity to win him.
With everyone focused on the pandemonium, Elena sliced through a vine with a dagger, no one the wiser. Then the spy vanished. Viori leaped into motion, stone in hand. She plucked a small brick of elderseed from the nearest limb and flittered after her...partner in crime, appearing in the designated location.
Well. Graves had already plunged a limb through each of Elena’s shoulders—both branches hung heavy with delicious produce. The sandcats bit the blonde’s calves and John pulled back his elbow, preparing to deliver a single swipe to remove her head. Defensive to the end, like their mother.
“No,” Viori called, and Graves immediately retracted his branches. The cats stilled. A pale, panting Elena collapsed to her knees as Viori stuffed her pebble in her pocket and pointed an accusing finger at her children. “No more striking first. We pause and we think. If the person is innocent, we send them on their way, no worse for the wear.”
Graves and John appeared chagrined. The cats settled and licked their hindquarters.
“Thanks for the concern,” Elena grumbled as she clambered to her feet. She swayed as her wounds healed, the process visible through the fabric of her tunic. “And thank you for believing in me. I won’t let you down. But how am I supposed to fight and defeat Norok now?”
Viori broke the elderseed in half. A bite for each of them. “Eat this, and your strength will return. Your glamara will charge, and you’ll be stronger than ever. For a few hours, at least. After that, you’ll weaken considerably. And, if you let me down, that’s when I’ll strike at you.”
“An acceptable bargain.” Elena accepted the piece with a shaky hand, then popped the elderseed into her mouth and swallowed. Seconds passed, and she frowned. “Nothing’s happening.”
“Just wait. But we can’t stay here. Guaranteed everyone knows we’re gone now. They’ll be looking for us.” And she didn’t want Micah searching for her at the camp while Norok and Fayette still lived.
“I’ll go to—Oh!” Elena gasped, her eyes widening. She rolled her shoulders. “You were right. I like this very much.” Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders. “Are you ready for battle?” she asked, aglow with sorrow for the harsh necessities to come. “Because warring when oracles are involved is difficult. We must assume Fayette can foresee anything we plan.”
“Then we go in without planning. And if you hear me singing—”
“Cover my ears. Trust me, I will never not cover my ears when you sing. I saw what you did to the trolls.”
The dry tone made Viori laugh. She thrust a hand against her mouth, horrified that she’d displayed amusement at a time like this. If the situation were reversed and she must hunt and kill her brother for the greater good... “My apologies.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Elena threw her arms around Viori, giving her a spontaneous hug. “I’ll take all the levity I can get.”
Viori hugged her back, albeit awkwardly.
The other woman cleared her throat as she drew back, as if embarrassed by the display of affection.
“If—when—we succeed, I’ll promote you to the exalted position of my lady’s maid.”
Now Elena laughed, a high-pitched bark there and gone. Serious again, she said, “We follow our instincts from here on out.” Swooping down, she picked up the collar Micah had removed from Viori’s neck. “See you on the other side, Your Majesty.”
They shared a half smile before the spy vanished.
Viori’s first instinct? To see to her family’s protection. She told her babies, “Hide near the camp. If you see Micah, stop him from entering the fray. Kaysar and Cookie, too—without harming them. Guard them.” She hugged each one. “I love you, and I hope to see you on the other side of the war.”
With tears gathering, she popped the elderseed into her mouth, swallowed and nodded a goodbye to her children. She flittered to a section of forest near the camp and cloaked herself with a tangle of branches.
Through gaps in the limbs, she saw guards surrounded the perimeter, each holding a spear. And oh, wow, the elderseed hit and hit hard. Power flooded her, filling her, every crevice. Her blood heated—her throat heated, as if she’d swallowed fiery coal. Hopefully, the extra power would keep her from sleeping and creating a doorway to the mortal world.
Wasting no time, Viori gave in to the urge to create and released a song of conception. The melody carried on a soft breeze, tendrils of her power draining. A wind kicked up. Branches clapped as one. Twigs, stones and dirt drew together, forming five...ten...twenty...bodies, but none came to life. Not yet. These beings would not awaken until she discharged the final note.