Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Steel clangs against steel as I watch first Elisaf join the fight, then Abarrane, her blade strokes vicious and sweeping. My pulse hammers in my throat. It’s a moment before I remember I’m not alone. I give Pan a gentle push toward the boulders. He crouches down beside me, and we observe the battle unfold from our hidden perch.
The blazing tree flares to three times its size, earning shouts as the attackers back away, not understanding the cause of its surge. A suitable distraction as Zander cuts down three of them from behind before they realize he’s there. He soars off his horse, his sword blade curving in a deep arc, to cut down a fourth.
I watch, mesmerized, as the tide of the battle shifts, our side sorely unmatched and yet incomparable in skill. Even Zorya, barely standing, blocks blow after blow, and Gesine, crouching in her white caster’s garb, stops every flaming arrow with her air shield before they can embed in the wagon’s canvas cover.
Abarrane vaults over the wagon and fells two men on the other side, landing on her feet only to stab a third with her dagger.
“Wow.” Awe laces Pan’s voice.
“She wasn’t kidding about hunting you down, so don’t get any ideas about running.”
“Right beside you seems like a smart place to stay, huh?”
I smile. It’s refreshing to hear Pan speak to me like anyone else I might have known in my previous life, not capping off his words with Your Highness or my lady.
“So, that’s really the king?”
“Yeah, that’s him.” An odd swell warms my chest as Zander fights against two assailants, even as trepidation ensnares my breathing. I’ve seen him in the sparring square but never in a life-or-death situation such as this. He moves with the grace of a seasoned warrior, anticipating every assault as if it’s choreographed. I shouldn’t worry about him. His opponents should worry—whether it’s one or ten.
Except the ball in my stomach says I am worried.
All it takes is one misstep, one bad parry … No matter how much he’s hurt me, no matter how much he infuriates me with the things he says and does, my heart still skips a beat every time I see him and aches with longing every time I think of what we had.
Maybe I’m an idiot, but if he were to come to me tonight and ask for a second chance, I’d give it to him without hesitation.
“What’s he doing out here, without his army?”
“It’s a long story—”
A tree branch snaps behind us, a split second before something hard strikes the back of my skull.
18
Zander
“I need to see. Please, allow me.” Gesine kneels before the warrior where we laid her in the grass, the burning oak providing plenty of light for the caster.
Zorya grits her teeth and snaps the shaft protruding from her body. “Stop talking and do it, then.”
Gesine unfastens Zorya’s vest with gentle fingers.
Nearby, Elisaf drags the bodies of the attackers into a heap.
“You were supposed to meet us at the bridge. What happened?” Abarrane’s face is streaked in blood—none of it hers.
“Three men were prowling. I figured I’d lure them here and kill them out of sight of the guards on the wall, to avoid drawing attention to us.” Zorya pants through the pain, struggling to speak.
“But an axle broke,” Gesine continues. “We started the fire to give Ocher enough light so he could try to fix it. That must have been what drew them in.”
My gaze veers to the fallen man, lying in a heap. “I’m surprised they didn’t take him alive.”
“I guess they were more interested in the two women in the wagon.”
“They didn’t realize one was a batty old seer and the other, a witch with a nasty temper.” Zorya cackles, but it quickly dissolves into a grimace of pain.
“How is the seer?” I glance at the back of the wagon. There’s been no sign of her.
“She sleeps.” Gesine’s face is worried as she holds open the leathers to expose the wound beneath. “The arrow is lodged in her lung.”
“Merth.” Zorya’s teeth grit. “It burns.”
“Riding will only cause more damage. I need to treat this immediately.”
Zorya’s one good eye searches the caster’s features in the firelight. “What are you waiting for, then?”
Gesine looks at me.
“Start now. We need to wait until Loth and Jarek get here with the horses.”
“Your Highness.” Settling into a cross-legged pose on the ground, the caster closes her eyes and begins her work.
I ride back up the hill, desperate to feel Romeria’s body tucked against mine again, where it’s safe. She infuriated me with that stunt in Bellcross, putting herself in danger like that. So many things could have gone wrong. She must learn to surrender a few for the many. In that, she would be flawed as a leader.
Yet I cannot fault her motivation. It’s who she is. It’s part of what I fell in love with.