Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“A piscina. No need to fear them unless you cut yourself. They only react to blood.”
Good to know. I relaxed more and more into his grip, wishing to voice a surplus of questions but determined not to overwhelm him with all things Moriah today.
He gave a low grunt. “Go ahead. Ask.”
How well he read me. Meanwhile, I struggled to unearth the slightest clues about him.
I decided to let myself issue a lone, non-personal question. “How long until we reach Lux?”
“Anywhere from seven days to a month. Depends on how many injuries we sustain at the hands of other bounty hunters, trappers, flora, and fauna.”
Ugh. Even seven days seemed too long. “Flying in a hot-air balloon would be faster.” Or the winged horses my mother had painted. “And probably safer.”
He arched a brow. “Do you have a hot-air balloon?”
“Well, no,” I grumbled.
Seconds passed in silence.
“That’s it? That’s all you wished to know?” He spit out water. “We’ll reach the forest in less than two minutes, and I’ll expect silence from that point on.”
Did he want me to get personal? My pleasure! “How’d you get into the execution business? Did you always dream of chopping off heads? Attend a special school to learn where to aim?”
“I’m an enforcer in the Guardian’s royal army. All soldiers go through a decade of specialized training. We learn the wisdom of doing our duty, always, no matter the situation.” His tone and posture never changed, and yet tension wafted from him.
A decade, hmm? His training had to begin at a very young age, yet his mother had hailed from my world. So who was his father? How had Jasher become a child soldier? Through a mandatory selection process? On a volunteer basis? I wanted so badly to continue the Q and A, but I sensed Jasher would shut me out entirely if I continued along that particular path.
Guess I could read him, after all. I switched my focus to the man I sought. “Can’t say I’m as enamored of the Guardian as everyone else. He recruits and teaches kids how to be killers.”
“He does what’s necessary to save the people of Hakeldama from monstra, sparing hundreds of villages and thousands of lives.”
Defensive now. “Killing innocents to pay for someone else’s crime has filled those villages with monsters of a different sort.” My teeth began to chatter from the cold. Maybe from guilt and regret, too. “They are just as bloodthirsty.”
“They are fearful.” His voice tightened at the end. “If the girl hadn’t died in your place, the entire village would have perished. The monstra are…” Hatred pulsed from him, icy and electric. “They are pure evil. Worse than the beastie. The monstra consume everything in their path. Nothing and no one are safe. They can be stopped only through death, yet they are nearly impossible to kill.”
My mother had said something similar, with a caveat. The hero king. He helped from beyond the grave. I wished I recalled the specifics but though I wracked my brain, I came up empty.
I considered the beings I’d seen in West’s office. The loathing and rage I’d perceived in their eyes promised devastation as great as Jasher predicted. Greater even. A good reason not to mention my drawings. Or that I longed for a pencil and pad of paper to etch a creature even now.
“Will the Guardian agree to take me home?” I asked.
Jasher thought for a moment. “I’m unsure. He can if he so chooses, but he’ll demand a hefty price. He always does. How much are you willing to pay?”
“Silvers again,” I muttered. “They are currently the bane of my existence. I’m happy to work for my money. I do it at home, night and day. But how am I supposed to earn quick wages here?”
“We’ll be visiting a village or two to pick up supplies. You can sing and dance for silvers. Or sell a limb to cannibals. Or sign up for a night in a pleasure room. Though I’m told the workers experience little to no actual pleasure.”
“Sing and dance it is, then,” I said with a sigh, and he snorted. “Whoa! A moment of amusement from the robot. Wonders never cease.”
“I experience emotions,” he replied without, well, emotion.
A little laugh slipped from me. Then another and another. Jasher’s expression softened, making him appear almost bemused. His hold on me softened, too, and our gazes met. In an instant, all good humor fled. A new lance of awareness pierced me.
He was more human than I’d realized, and I didn’t know what to think about that.
“I’m not used to someone brave enough to look me in the eye,” he muttered.
Showing mercy, I looked away first. Cleared my throat. “Be warned. Singing isn’t in my wheelhouse. I figure everyone will pay me to stop.”
“That makes me more eager to hear your first performance.”