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)
Prepare for war.
CHAPTER SIX
MICAH AND NOROK occupied one side of a long, rectangular table, while Kaysar and Cookie perched on the other. So far, the impromptu assembly had facilitated nothing more than uncomfortable staring and an intermittent exchange of insults and threats.
Had his ears worked and his emotions not been numbed courtesy of the surdi root tea, he would have boiled with hatred. Warren’s killers. Here in the flesh. Vulnerable. How easy it would be to strike. But even now, he couldn’t bring himself to break a vow—or erase Red from his thoughts. What was she doing? What path had she chosen? When could he see her again?
“When I deign to visit, I should be worthy of a better hovel,” Kaysar commented, his features pinched with distaste as he scanned the setting.
Beyond easy. “You are worthy only of death.”
They occupied a small mud hut at the farthest edge of the campground, built exclusively with tollo, preventing flittering.
“Yes, but no refreshments.” Cookie pouted. “No amenities of any kind.”
He allowed no servants to enter this area, ever. Why endanger innocents? “Tell me why you are really here or leave. I won’t allow you to waste more of my valuable time.”
Kaysar winced, as if embarrassed for him. “How sad. You haven’t yet realized you’re already a dead man walking.”
Micah watched the royal’s lips to identify the words. “You’re wrong. I’ve known it for quite some time.” It was the reason he made such a great king. He had no needs of his own, only those of his people.
Like the indomitable Red, his “guest” held his stare without wavering. “You do realize I could declare an end to our truce right now, yes? We know your men sneak onto our land to steal food and water. A clear violation of our terms.”
“Once again, you’re wrong. I agreed to lend you the use of my palace for one year. Only my palace. The lands around it are mine. I steal nothing. I merely take what belongs to me.”
“Is that so?” Kaysar steepled his hands and drummed his metal claws together.
Cookie peered at Micah while petting her husband’s chest, as if she sought to calm him from a hulking rage. “I am better for the citizens of the Dusklands. You comprehend this. And anyone who’d prefer to join my team is welcome to do so at any time,” she added with a smile at Norok. “But spies best beware. I bite.”
Steady. The queen’s time is coming. “The same is true of your spies.”
To Norok’s credit, he simply glared at her, obeying Micah’s order to silence his retorts. No doubt he plotted a thousand ways to murder the royals.
The couple deserved whatever death they were dealt. How they had laughed as they’d wreaked destruction upon a legion of soldiers. Cookie had used her glamara to sprout poisoned vines from her fingertips and squeeze the life out of good fae. Throughout the massacre, Kaysar had sung a lethal song, increasing her power.
“What I know,” Micah stated, “is that you are a sovereign who insists on granting your every whim at the expense of the people. You are nothing more than a tyrant, unworthy of a crown.”
“Take it from me.” Challenge crackling in her eyes, she blew him a kiss. “I dare you to try.”
“Soon,” he vowed. Oh yes. Soon indeed.
Kaysar slapped a hand against the table, gaining Micah’s attention. “You do not wish to become a true foe of mine,” the other male told him, seeming serious for the first time. “I’ll stop at nothing to deliver pain like you’ve never known.”
His coldest smile bloomed. “You will stop—when I make you.”
Kaysar smiled right back, a sinister contortion of his lips. “So be it. Five weeks then.” He stood and drew his wife to her feet. “Come, love. I’m eager to acquire new jars for the tongues I plan to add to my collection. I’ll call them Micah’s Regret.”
“Oh, I love it!” Cookie praised his brilliance while opening a doorway. The two vanished from view.
Micah wasted no time. He had a prisoner to check on. Jumping up, he claimed his cloak. As he donned the material, he caught Norok’s gaze and demanded, “Bring me the oracle.” He hated to admit this, but...the Unhinged One was right. Fayette should have foreseen the early arrival of his foes. Something she used to do with ease.
For decades, the oracle had predicted the most minute details of his life weeks, months and sometimes years in advance. As the most powerful seer in the entire realm, she had helped him win villages in a matter of hours. Yet today she failed to predict the exact moment his most despised opponent arrived? No. Something was off, and only one explanation made sense. She had purposely impaired Micah.
The more he pondered the prospect, the more he smoldered with resentment. Early this morning, Fayette had warned Norok to be on the lookout for a spy. Now Micah wondered...had she lied to distract them? Planning, hoping to blame her actions on another, such as a newcomer like Red?