Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir.”
“Torches?”
“Yes.”
Torches?
Did they think they would burn The Enchantments?
Did they think they could even breach them?
They could not.
Not even with her, for she would not open them, even upon threat of the certain death.
And they might have bound her hands, her mouth, and weakened her focus so she could not cast, but they could not steal her magic.
“The last Nadirii patrol?”
“Moved out of this area six hours ago.”
“They’ll be quite far by now. Send the order. Men in positions.”
“Yes, sir.”
Melisse searched the area as best she could from where she lay with only waning light to see by in hopes to observe, well…anything.
She had not seen Seph since he’d lured her to that place.
Though she’d thought often of his hands.
How had he lost his hands?
And if it was this faction who took them, why was he still allied with them?
She could not think on that now, nor should she have thought of it then.
Ophelia had always told her, mind the curiosity of a cat. Cats were agile and limber. The scrapes they could escape were vast.
People were not the same.
She should have listened to her queen.
Or at least brought backup.
She should also have listened to Rebecca, who told her Fern of the Great Coven had sensed bad omens for Melisse.
So intent was she on the safety of the prophesied, she did not dwell on her own.
She could not think on this either.
Melisse attempted to focus on clearing her mind so she could endeavor a spell to loosen her binds. Or communicate with the veil to send a warning, no matter how weak. Those in treehomes close to this location, and the patrol, even six hours away, might sense it and come to her aid.
But…
What did they think they could achieve?
This was no small operation.
One, two hundred men?
On a fool’s errand of violating The Enchantments?
“Men are in position, sir.”
Damn it, she’d lost focus.
She closed her eyes, sought the veil.
And lost her concentration at the tone of voice of the leader.
“Excellent,” he whispered, sounding nearly feverish with anticipation.
Hundreds of years, The Enchantments had never been breached.
Why did he sound so…certain?
She felt movement close and she ignored the pain in her shoulder as she twisted to her back to better her position so she could put her heels in the turf and push away.
Or kick out.
But she stopped dead when she saw him, the leader, a priest she had not, before her capture, met.
They called him Nath, G’Nath, which meant his born name was probably Nathan.
He was tall, likely in the middle of his third decade on earth.
And right then, he was holding a unicorn horn.
He had a sacred horn.
Oh, by the great goddesses, how had he gotten hold of a sacred unicorn horn?
They were forbidden in every realm!
“Ungag her, we will need her pain,” Nath ordered.
Another one came up behind her, and she twisted her head this way and that, not believing she wished to keep the gag, but now she had an inkling of what they were up to.
She would almost certainly not survive it.
But that wasn’t the only reason she had to fight it.
Using every ounce of strength she had left, she struggled, twisting her body, kicking out with her bound feet.
Another man had to come to assist, and another.
“Control her, hold her down, and take the gag!” Nath shouted.
She was too weak, she could not fight them physically.
She gave up and closed her eyes in order to attempt magic.
The gag was released.
Immediately, she was struck across the face, closed fist.
And again.
A third time.
She shook her head, blinking away the stars, and ended with her eyes open.
He was standing above her, a foot planted at each side, the horn raised.
“No,” she whispered.
He brought it down in a vicious stab.
“NO!” she shouted.
It pierced the flesh and her breastbone, driving through.
Agonizing pain scattered from wound throughout her frame as she screamed her anguish and glittering white sparks mixed with the amethyst hue of Melisse’s own magic shot high and wide, lighting the area all around, all the way to the dusk sky.
“Yes!” G’Nath bellowed.
Through the draining pain, Melisse heard hoots, hollers, cheers.
She turned her head and her agony magnified as she saw the rift form in the veil from where she lay. Its edges sizzled white hot as it rose from the earth where she lay and expanded.
Up.
“No,” she whispered.
Out.
“No,” she breathed, her lids drooping as a weakness so profound, she knew she had no hope to fight it pervaded.
Up and out, she watched a rough two-foot square of the veil open.
Then three.
Four.
Five.
Seven.
No.
And then…
Melisse blinked at what she saw beyond the disintegrating barrier.
“What—?” G’Nath started in shock.
The gap was ten feet square and expanding.
But beyond it, Melisse clearly saw Ophelia sitting her steed.
Behind her, at least five battalions of Nadirii warriors.
Her eyes drifting open and shut, Melisse’s lips curled just as Ophelia released the Nadirii yell.