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)
Finally I did it. I looked away, needing a moment to think without the influence of his animal magnetism. Except, Jasher didn’t wait around for me to rationalize why kissing him might be a great idea. He walked around me—and vanished.
Tension clasped me in a vice grip. Never mind the almost liplock of my imagination. Was I supposed to stay here? Give chase? What happened to him? Where did he go?
Hold up. I narrowed my lids and examined a shimmering veil that hung in the air. An invisible curtain, exactly like the one that had shielded the Governor’s Guild. What waited beyond it?
As minutes passed without Jasher’s return, my curiosity overcame my trepidation. Though my legs shook, I made my way forward. The closer I came to the veil, however, the hotter the bruise on my ring finger burned, just as it had done with the singing flowers. A visible band formed and darkened and even raised like scar tissue.
Hmm. The discolored skin appeared to be an actual ring. A tattoo I’d never gotten. A strange enough occurrence on its own, but when I factored in its location, I wanted to pull out my hair. The band with a single emerald, sapphire, ruby, amethyst, opal, and diamond—the same territories mentioned by Patch—just happened to appear on the same finger I’d worn my mother’s ring? What were the odds?
Another connection to Hakeldama. Daddy had gifted me with the treasure four years ago, on my sixteenth birthday. The morning I turned eighteen, I’d awakened to discover the ring was just gone. Though I’d torn my bedroom and home apart, searched the fields and retraced every step I’d taken, I’d never seen the heirloom again.
What if my mother hadn’t visited this land…but lived in it?
Did the burn in my finger mean something? Did the ring have some kind of magical powers?
No, surely not. Magic wasn’t real; words Mom had conveyed every time she’d spun her fairytales. She extolled the merits of “spiritual authority,” and the driving force behind it. Things I hadn’t understood then and barely comprehended now.
Oh sweet goodness, what was that smell? I jumped out of my head, gagging as soon as the scenery changed. A cart without ponies or a driver occupied a small clearing, with mutant flies swarming the back, where stacks of headless, rotting corpses piled on top of the other. The biggest maggots I’d ever seen wiggled everywhere, leaving a slimy substance on the deceased, the cart’s wooden railing and wheels, and surrounding grass. A fetid stench tainted my every breath, making vomiting a very real possibility.
Jasher crouched near the front of the vehicle, where the harnesses had been cut. His expression bordered on angry. Voice tight, he explained, “The bodies were being hauled to Lux for disposal. Trappers must have taken the drivers and horses.”
The moisture in my mouth dried. “What will the trappers do to the drivers?”
“Depends. Some are forced to labor. Most are eaten.”
The horror! “Trappers are the cannibals you mentioned?”
“In part. There are others, but unlike trappers, they choose to pay for their meat rather than steal it.”
How was that any better? “Shouldn’t we give chase and save the drivers?”
“No. They’re as good as dead. And just so you know, I won’t come for you, either, if you’re taken.” He straightened and rolled his shoulders. “You’ll be on your own.”
His total disregard for my wellbeing raised my hackles. After we’d shared—what? A moment? Please. We’d shared absolutely nothing. I shouldn’t be surprised by this. “I won’t be on my own. I’ll have my compass,” I retorted, earning a glare.
Common sense gave me an internal shake. Stop antagonizing your guide!
Gentling my tone, I asked, “What are those invisible curtains?” Better yet, how could I avoid stumbling through another? “I’m assuming the trappers use them to, well, set traps.”
“They do, yes. The curtains are called sarras. Trappers only leave them behind when they are forced to flee in a hurry.” Pointing to the left and right, indicating an area behind me, Jasher added, “When inside a sarra, you can see past it, but outsiders cannot peer through it. Trappers wait with weapons drawn and attack those who enter their sights.”
I turned to track the direction he’d pointed and discovered a metal bolt thingy driven into two different tree trunks. Not easy to spot, but not impossible, either. From now on, I would be on the lookout.
“How did you know you weren’t walking into a trap?” I asked.
“I didn’t. I hoped I was.” Relish dripped from his tone. “I wished to slaughter the entire company.”
My eyes widened. “You love killing that much?”
“I love killing trappers that much.”
A telling statement. He or someone he loved must’ve been a victim of trappers in the past. “If you’d like to rescue the drivers, I might be on board with that.”