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)
“Do you want me to put it back in?” he asks, holding me as carefully as he can.
I nod, and he quickly sets me on my feet and crouches in front of me, holding on to my waist to keep me upright. The scabbards of the swords he wears strapped to his back drag through palm-size hail stones to scrape the rocky ground.
“Extend it slowly,” he orders, keeping his hazel eyes on my knee. I turn my head, biting into the collar of my jacket to keep from screaming again as I straighten my leg. “This won’t be pleasant. I’m so sorry,” he says as he slides my kneecap back into place.
“Don’t be,” I manage to gasp, the pain immediately sliding to a level where I can at least think somewhat properly. “Wrap is in my pack.” The rhythmic sound of Tairn’s breathing calms my heartbeat, but I can’t see anything beyond his dark scales to my left and hunks of granite to our right with us all but wedged up against the mountainside.
He retrieves the fabric, then holds me steady as I do my best to stabilize the joint. Pain flares as I test my weight on the limb, but it’s miniscule compared to what could happen to Tairn if we don’t start moving, so I tie off the fabric and call it good. It’ll do until I can get to a healer or Brennan—but we need to get out of here alive first.
“You’re good at that,” he says. Dipping down, he slings an arm around my upper back, and I throw mine over his shoulder.
“Lots of practice.” We make our way beside Tairn’s back, careful not to step on his wings, and finally clear his tail as the tornado winds its way eastward. “Your head is bleeding right above your scar from Resson.”
“Good. Hate to damage the other side of my perfect face,” he jokes. “Don’t worry about me. It’s nothing a couple of stitches won’t fix.”
“The others approach,” Andarna says. “They do not know Chradh is with you, and I have not told them.”
The Brown Scorpiontail blocked out his riot?
“Tell them to go for Maren’s family first. You stay right where you’re at until we know what’s going on.”
There’s a definite grumble in her response as I stagger forward with Garrick’s help, taking a central position between Tairn and Chradh, who looks like he might be missing a few scales along his jaw.
“The others are on their way,” I tell Garrick. “And I’m pretty sure that venin knew we were coming.”
“That’s…great.” He grimaces. “I’ve flown through some shit, but never been through a tornado before,” Garrick says, scanning the horizon. We’re at least a mile south of the village.
“Me, either.” The smoke rises in a steady column again above the town. I reach for Tairn’s power, but as expected, the scorching Archives I’ve come to depend on sputter with darkness. “Want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“They made it.” Garrick tenses and pointedly looks toward the western end of the village as Feirge and Aotrom cross the moonlight. Kira, Daja, and Trager’s gryphon, Sila, follow soon after, all of them bearing their riders and fliers respectively. “Maren’s family, right? That’s what Major Safah relayed.”
“That’s why I’m here. You’re supposed to be with Xaden.” There’s no point confirming what he already knows. “Eight hours away.”
“Yeah, well, the second he heard you were charging off into danger, he became…unreasonable.” A muscle in Garrick’s jaw ticks, and I pull my arm from his shoulder so he can stand straight, shifting my weight to relieve the pressure from my right knee as much as possible. “I’ve never seen him like that.” Garrick shoots a worried look my way. “Ever. I don’t even want to think about what he would have done if he’d been out here beyond the wards, because I thought he was going to rip the stones from the wall. He’s always prided himself on control—he has to when he wields that much power—and I’m telling you, he lost it when he heard you were crossing the border, Violet. He’s…not himself.”
My chest tightens. He’d been annoyed, even angry when I flew for Cordyn with my siblings a few months ago, but hadn’t come close to losing it. “Because Aetos sent us to—” The words die on my tongue as I process what he said. “He knew I was crossing the border? Maise.” I end on a whisper, staring up at the side of Garrick’s face. “How did you get here?”
“It’s not important.” He draws a sword with his left hand.
“Maise saw us leave maybe forty minutes ago, and you’re already here. You’re a wind-wielder, and there’s no fucking way you pushed a hundreds-of-miles-an-hour tailwind at Chradh, so how did you get here?” My voice rises with my temper, and lightning strikes twenty feet in front of us, charring the ground as thunder booms simultaneously.