Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“It’s a suicide mission,” Pretha says.
Finn shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s been done before. More than once.”
Pretha pushes out of her chair and stands. “And more than one has tried and failed—tried and died.”
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of a member of the living visiting the Underworld, but I ask, “Why do people die when they go there?”
“It’s always about balance,” Misha says, tilting his hourglass from side to side. “If our great leaders who are no longer on this plane can visit the Underworld, so can the great monsters that we’ve cast out of this world.”
Finn looks at Misha and cocks his head to the side, but there’s nothing playful about the hard gleam in his eyes. “Thankfully the princess broke the curse, and I’m no longer the helpless waste of space you had to protect for the last two decades. I am heir to the Throne of Shadows. My magic walks the line between life and death. I am the best candidate for this job. Mab will know how to save our court, and I intend to get those answers.”
“We don’t even know where to find the portals to the Underworld,” Pretha says. “And the last time you tried to get the High Priestess to open one, she wouldn’t meet with you.”
Finn nods. “I remember, but I have a plan for that.” He turns to me and meets my eyes for a long, tense moment. “Assuming the princess will be kind enough to accompany me into the mountains for Lunastal.”
“I’ll go where I’m needed,” I say, but I shake my head, still feeling miles behind in this conversation. “What’s in the mountains? And what’s Lunastal?”
Finn smiles. “That’s where the High Priestess resides. On major holidays she resurfaces from her deep meditations and takes audiences for several days. And I’ll need her, as she’s the only one who can open a portal to the Underworld.”
“You’re going to ask her to send you to your death?” Kane asks.
Pretha shakes her head. “It’s too risky.”
“Enough.” Finn’s command is sharp and clear, silencing everyone in the room. “Abriella and I will see the High Priestess, and if she grants me access, I will go to the Underworld to talk to Mab.” He sweeps his gaze over the group, daring anyone to contradict him, then settles his eyes on Amira. “There are four days until Lunastal. We need to move.”
“We couldn’t possibly make the necessary preparations in time,” Pretha says. “There are procedures in place for when the prince attends a celebration. Never mind that we need time to prepare Juliana. If you show up with Abriella and Juliana senses that she holds the power of the crown, there will be hell to pay.”
“Too bad.”
Chapter Twelve
I was instructed to pack bare necessities for a week or two and told that Pretha and Misha would be working together to open a portal from the settlement into the Unseelie Court. They said I’d need to be ready to head out before dawn.
No one told me why Finn needs me with him to see this priestess, nor did anyone explain what Finn’s trip to the Underworld would entail. As much as these people pretend that I’m part of the team now, the truth is, they still don’t trust me completely. It’s a reminder that while I may have power and a new immortal body, I don’t truly belong. But I can live with that. I have reasons of my own to want to see this priestess. If she’s able to open portals to the Underworld, perhaps she knows something about this “reverse Potion of Life” Misha once mentioned. Even if it no longer exists, perhaps there’s another way for me to become mortal again.
Finn, or one of his people, put wards around their wing of the castle, but I slip through them like water through the cracks of a mountain. I hide in the shadows, let myself be one with the darkness, and slink noiselessly toward the sound of their voices.
Pretha and Finn are on one of the castle’s many terraces. Finn’s arms are braced on the railing, a wineglass cupped loosely in one hand, while Pretha paces behind him.
“—missing something important,” Finn’s saying. “It just doesn’t add up, but I’ll be damned if I let fear keep me from finding the answers we need.”
“There has to be another way.” Pretha rubs the center of her chest with her palm. “Who else might have a solution?”
“No one.” His voice is calm, almost lazy, but I feel his worry. It’s a vibration that roils just under the surface of this inexplicable connection between us. “There’s no one else, Pretha. I’m doing this.”
Pretha summons a bottle of wine and pours herself a healthy serving. The dark, velvety red liquid seems to gobble up light. She drains half the glass in one pull and immediately refills it. “What about your responsibility to your people? We’ve protected you for twenty years so you could lead them, and now—”