Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
He. Would. Not.
A hard rap sounded at the door, and he craned his neck to glance at the intruder. Spotting the Commander, Roux popped to his feet, standing at attention. Since Roc’s marriage to Taliyah Skyhawk, Blythe’s sister, the iron-willed warrior had displayed prolonged moments of uncharacteristic softness coupled with unexpected smiles. Today strain etched his every feature.
Roux wanted to spew out questions but held his silence. One did not speak before one’s superior. He kept his gaze pinned over Roc’s broad shoulder, exactly as a subordinate should. Not because the other god was stronger or more powerful; he wasn’t. Roux did this to show his respect. Like all Astra, he valued title above sentiment. Emotion was always subject to change, but the authority in their designations forever remained the same.
“You can show yourself out,” she announced, sparing Roc a single glance. “You weren’t invited.”
The Commander blinked with incredulity. To be spoken to with such irreverence, and by a child...
Roux cringed inside. Such disrespect was never tolerated from anyone. Ever. He gently explained, “A Commander may attend any event that transpires in his territory, with or without an invitation.”
To Roc, he spoke telepathically, using a mental link all Astra possessed.—Any punishment due to her, I will take.—From this moment on, he would protect the little girl and her mother from further hurt and harm. Because Isla was right; he owed them.
The Commander seemed to fight a smile.—My next words may be punishment enough. The next blessing task is set, and you are the contender.—
He frowned. Usually, they went in order of rank: Roc, Halo, then Silver, with Roux sixth. This guaranteed they worked the same task every five hundred years. This round, however, they battled for more than the blessing. They sought ascension. A rise in status and dominance, and a chance to obtain eternal freedom from the curse. Then, at long last, they would have the power to oversee the ultimate destruction of Erebus. For this reason, the Dark One, who pursued his own ascension, was allowed to change the order he faced his opponents as well as the tasks themselves.
“Come to the conference room the moment you tell her goodbye,” Roc told him before flashing off.
“No need to say goodbye,” the little girl said, offering Roux another of those calculating smiles. “I’ll be seeing you real soon.”
He noted the pain behind her expression this time, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Not yet. “I know this means nothing to you but...” His jaw tensed. His throat tightened. Hands fisted, he sank to his knees, so that they were eye to eye. “I’m sorry I killed your father.”
The smile vanished. Her lower lip wavered. Tears welled, but she blinked them back. “You aren’t sorry,” she informed him with a firm tone. “But you will be. Now go. I’m done with you.”
Sighing, he forced himself to teleport to the conference room. An open space with a long table and ten chairs. Roc already stood at the head of the table, a tower of might with cropped dark hair, bronze skin heavily marked by alevala, and eyes of gold with striations of gray.
“Any questions?” the Commander prompted.
Many. But he’d start with the most important. “What am I to do?”
“There is a supposedly inescapable prison world known as Ation. You will venture there, apprehend the queen within twenty-nine days, and return to Harpina. On the thirtieth day, you will present your prisoner to Chaos and remove her heart with a trinite blade.”
Nothing out of the ordinary. All easily accomplished. So what was the catch? “What do you know of the queen?”
“Only that the current or former sovereign is a vampire, but the title can transfer to another at any time. Or has transferred. You may or may not meet the vampire but the one who rules after her. Or now.” Roc pinched the bridge of his nose. “The time difference between worlds is confusing. Sometimes it’s faster than ours, sometimes it’s slower, but everything equals out in the end. I’m not sure how it works. Just look for the one who wears the crystal crown.”
Halo Phaninon, their strategist, appeared, flashing into the room with Celestian “Ian” Eosphorus fast on his heels. The two flanked the Commander’s sides, the three creating a wall of ferocity.
Though the two weren’t related by blood, Halo resembled Roc in many ways. Similar brown hair, bronze skin, and odd golden eyes. And though Ian, who was black, looked nothing like the Commander, they shared the same parents.
The two males were just as different in temperament. Where Roc was all rough insistence and brute strength, his younger brother exuded unflappable confidence and smooth charm.
Both newcomers offered Roux a sympathetic wince. He kept quiet, waiting, as his mind whirled. Something had happened. What, what?
“Your suspicions were correct,” Halo informed the Commander. Once, he’d been known as the Machine. An emotionless husk Roux considered one of his closest friends. During his most recent task, however, Halo had found his gravita. Now the warrior constantly exuded an enviable contentment Roux couldn’t understand. “She’s missing.”