Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
“Heretic! You are not welcome here,” she shouts, her voice breaking with a rasp.
Heretic? My gaze darts between the two women as my mind races in time with my heartbeat. The faded forehead tattoo. Theophanie was a priestess of Dunne. Her silver hair matches the attendants’ on Unnbriel…matches mine—
My thoughts stall as the white-haired priestess raises her sword toward Theophanie with a trembling arm.
Oh shit. Power floods my body in a scalding rush of fire. There are too many people around for me to miss, and if she drains this close—
“Perhaps I am not welcome,” Theophanie muses, her feet planted in the grass, “but they are.”
Two more venin, men wearing red robes, walk through the grass behind her, and Andarna leaps over Tairn’s tail, blasting a stream of fire Theophanie’s way. The scents of ash and sulfur fill the air, but when Andarna lands at the base of the steps to my right, Theophanie still stands untouched.
“Why?” Andarna shrieks.
“Marvelous,” Theophanie says with a smile. “Did that make you feel bet—” Theophanie’s gaze rises to the sky behind me, and she backs away, her eyes widening. “Leave them and go!” she shouts to the approaching dark wielders and breaks into a run toward them. “Now!”
All three grasp hands, and the one in the center takes a single step and vanishes.
Just like Garrick.
“Incoming!” Tairn roars, and my focus swings east.
There’s no time to ponder what in Malek’s name just frightened Theophanie so badly that she fled. The four wyvern still on approach descend in a wing formation, one taking point with the others closely following. And they’re headed straight for us.
I lift my right hand again. Gathering more energy feels like I’m picking up the glowing coals Andarna scattered with my bare hands, but they’ll be here in less than thirty seconds.
“Any time now, Silver One,” Andarna prompts, moving back to Tairn’s side and stalking forward as Feirge crouches, ready to take the fight to the sky.
If darkness has thrown off my depth perception, if they’re flying faster than I estimate, we’re all about to be cooked. I target the lead wyvern and send up a prayer to Dunne. Then I wield, releasing a blast of energy and flicking my finger downward. No holding on this time. I learned my lesson.
Magic washes over me, prickling my skin in a familiar wave, and lightning strikes the first wyvern. It drops from the sky in a ball of fire, but we can’t celebrate with three still—
What the fuck?
They’re no longer flying toward us; they’re falling. My heart beats wildly as they plummet like projectiles. The ground shudders as the one on the right hits about sixty feet ahead, its momentum driving it into the dirt.
“Prepare!” Tairn shouts, leaping at the one on the left. Pain shoots down the bond as he knocks it off course, and dirt flies to the left of the temple when it lands.
Leaving one that rivals Feirge’s size still falling.
It slams against the ground twenty feet in front of Andarna, then skids toward us with all the grace of a battering ram. And it’s not stopping.
“Go!” Tairn orders, and fear clenches my chest as Andarna holds her position.
“It’s too big for you!” I shout.
Feirge takes a single step and swings her head like a mace into Andarna’s side, heaving her out of the wyvern’s path just before it careens across the very ground she’d been standing on.
The wyvern barrels toward us, eyes sightless, teeth exposed.
“Move!” I grab the high priestess’s elbow and pull, dragging her out of the way as the carcass crashes toward the marble stairs. Screams erupt as attendants scatter, and the wyvern’s shoulders take out the bottom portion of the steps at the same moment its head crashes into the intricately carved central pillar.
Oh shit.
The column explodes on impact, and chunks of marble fly. Throwing up my hands, I push with all the lesser magic I’m capable of, but there’s no stopping the claw-size pieces of rock hurtling in every direction, including ours.
But then they do just that…stop.
The one a few feet from my face hangs in midair, its flame-inspired etched edges suspended by a single black band of shadow.
Xaden.
Relief weakens my knees, and the remnant of the destroyed pillar slowly lowers to the ground, settling with a thunk. All around us, attendants scurry out of the way as the other pieces descend gently.
My head swings right, past the remaining pillars and the high priestess, following the retreating shadows to their wielder.
Xaden climbs the only intact section of steps two at a time, lowering his right hand while blood drips from the sword in his left. There’s no trace of red in his eyes, just determination and quickly fading fear as he glances down my frame, looking for injuries.
I do the same to him, and my heart jolts at the blood streaking the side of his face.