Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Garan takes a sharp right off the main road and drives up a winding mountain. Snow falls, trickling onto the windshield, pattering on the windows. I look at the village below. The lights gleam and cars whizz by, like tiny bugs.
Up Garan goes until the dark tips of Council Castle appears, surrounded in a thick blanket of fog. The roof is black, the building made of gray concrete. Several stories high and so big, I’m sure the entire population of Luxor could live there.
Garan drives across the bridge that leads to the front of the castle, a three-hundred-foot drop. Fall off it, and you’re landing on jagged rocks and icicles shaped like daggers. When Garan finally parks, he hops out of the car and pulls my door open for me.
I step out, fixing my jacket, my cap, and when I look up the steps, three people are already standing there. They’re in pure white suits and silver cloaks, their skin a rich dark brown, and their hair as white as the snow on the mountaintops.
Two men and a woman. The woman stands in the middle, Calista, her hair braided on the sides and pulled back into a neat ponytail. The two men are her brothers, Vassilis and Arie. Vassilis is much larger than Arie, twice Killian’s size. He has coily, spring-like hair, while Arie’s is wavy. I can’t stand Vassilis; however, with Arie, it’s easy to make peace with him.
“Welcome, Monarch Harlow.” Calista calls her greeting.
“Go on up then,” Garan insists. I cut my eyes at him before looking at Killian.
“Right, Killian,” I sigh, digging into my pocket to retrieve a bloom. “We know how The Council are. Heads are always up their asses, and they’ll do their best to get under our skin, but we won’t let them.” I light the end of it, inhale, then exhale as I stare at the trio atop the stairs. “They know how hard Blackwater Territory is to handle, so at the end of the day, they need us. We don’t need them.”
Killian grunts, squaring his shoulders.
“Right. Let’s go on up and deal with whatever the fuck their problem is so we can be on our way.”
“Easier said than done,” Killian grumbles.
“I know, brother.” I cap his shoulder. “But today, we do our best to behave.”
I march up the stairs first, and when I’m at the top, The Council takes a step back. Calista smiles, revealing stark white teeth behind blood-red lips. Arie, as always, wears a proud smirk, and Vassilis frowns. Nothing new there.
“I trust your trip to Luxor went smoothly?” Arie asks.
“It was fine.” I fold my fingers in front of me. “Now tell me why I’m here.”
“Are you in a hurry?” Vassilis asks, a hint of agitation in his voice.
I switch my gaze to his. “I am, actually. I have pressing matters to tend to.”
“Matters more important than facing your Council?”
“Yes, believe it or not.”
A growl forms in the pit of Vassilis’ throat, and his eyes flash silver. Those are his angry eyes. I fight a smile, putting my focus on Calista.
“Listen, I know that I’m not here for you to have my head. If that were the case, you’d have done it yourselves in Blackwater, or at least hired someone to do the job for you. Since that hasn’t happened, I believe it’s safe for me to assume Rami’s death has become a convenience for you. So, what is it that I’m here for?”
Calista laughs, a soft noise that is hardly audible in the cold wind. “You have always been a smart man, Monarch Harlow. And you’re right, we don’t need your head. At least, not yet.” She raises her chin, then turns away, moving past two guards near the colossal double doors that lead into the castle. “Let us continue this conversation inside, next to food and a fire. There, we will discuss why we’ve really asked you here.”
Seventy-Three
CAZ
Council Castle isn’t a place welcoming to visitors. Their dark walls, thin windows, and sharp corners create an atmosphere that screams, “We’re better and stronger than you, now bow to us or get the fuck out.”
I’ll be damned if I bow to these people–silver little terrors who hide behind their powers and their walls. Calista leads the way through the castle, Arie and Vassilis walking at mine and Killian’s side.
“You think we’re gonna run?” Killian eyes Vassilis.
“You’d be wise not to, lest you want your brains splattered all over our walls.”
“Ha. Good luck with that, you Mythic bitch.”
Vassilis’ jaw ticks. He hates Blackwater people, I’d say with a very strong passion. He hates that we don’t fear The Council the way other territories do. In his mind, because they’re in charge, everyone should cater to them, run at their beck and call, and fear them.
They have a constant need for respect, yet they hardly do shit for anyone but themselves. That’s why there’s so much chaos in Vakeeli. They let us all run rampant while they pick and choose which crimes matter most, and which will be least problematic.