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)
“Save that worried look for someone else. As long as there’s no reason to wield, I’ll be fine, just like last night.” Xaden reaches for my hand and squeezes, then lets it go before Halden sees.
Dain and Ridoc both gawk at our surroundings as we climb the stairs out of the pit. It’s slightly cooler than when we were here last, but the humidity has the leather of my flight jacket sticking uncomfortably to my skin.
“Is this where you got the idea for using the sparring pit at Basgiath?” Dain asks over his shoulder when we finally reach the top.
Xaden nods, scanning our perimeter.
The second I spot Tecarus—in what are obviously his bed robes—hugging Cat on the nearby patio, Tairn and Andarna launch from the pit and the others rapidly follow suit. Mira stands to the side and sheathes her blade, offering a narrowed glance of warning to the two flier guards accompanying Tecarus before Drake clasps the tall one on the right in a friendly, back-slapping hug.
“Let me know if he has any venin locked away in a box as a surprise test,” Tairn says, flying in the same direction Sgaeyl took.
We cross the last rows of drained stones imported from the land that borders the Barrens as Halden and Anna reach the patio.
“Will do. Don’t let her eat anything—or anyone—she isn’t supposed to.” A bead of sweat drips down my spine, and I adjust the weight of my pack on my aching shoulders again, cringing at the slight slip I feel in the right joint as my head starts to swim in an annoying wave of dizziness. Exhaustion, dehydration, and heat are never a winning combination for my body.
“You’re such a centenarian. Perhaps my kind will not be such killjoys. Perhaps they will feast as they see fit. Perhaps they will— Ooh! What is that?”
“A Mammoth Red-Horned Tortoise and absolutely not! The shell will embed between your teeth, and I will not carry you and a festering tortoise shell— Get back here!” His voice fades as they fly out of range.
Xaden tenses the second we step off the drained stone and onto the strip of grass that separates the pit from the occupied marble patio leading into the palace’s dining room. “I’m all right,” he assures me as we reach the group.
We fill in the empty places in the small circle, putting me next to Halden, who somehow manages to still look regal…and haughty in a crumpled infantry uniform.
I wince when the rising sun glints off the golden royal insignia beneath his name tags, catching me in the eye, and quickly look down at the austere black of my flight jacket. I’ve never worn one made for actual combat before—only training. There’s no name tag, no patches, nothing beyond my hair to give away who I might be if I fall behind enemy lines, only two four-pointed stars indicating my rank as a second-year cadet.
“There’s the boy!” Tecarus grins at Drake, then glances over the rest of us, his gaze catching on Halden. “Your Royal Highness.” He bows his head. “We were not expecting such an esteemed guest.”
“We appreciate your hospitality, Viscount.” Halden does that condescending head-tilt of a nod that always grated on my nerves. Guess it still does. His hand rises to the small of my back, and I stiffen. “We were hoping to rest for the day, perhaps two depending on the condition of the gryphons, before continuing on to Deverelli.”
Shadows rise up the back of my thigh, curling around my hip, and I sidestep toward Xaden, effectively losing Halden’s hand in the process. “Still all right over there?”
“It would help if your fucking ex kept his hands to himself,” he hisses, the shadow firmly gripping my hip.
“Deverelli?” Tecarus asks, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline before his gaze swings my way. “You have the artifact.”
My lips part—
“We do,” Halden answers for me.
Gods, I always hated that about him.
Dain shoots me a look that borders on an eye roll, reminding me that he’d never been Halden’s biggest fan.
“Of course,” Tecarus says slowly, his attention dropping to the shadows lingering at my hip. “Well then, let’s get you comfortable.” He turns toward the palace in a flurry of brocaded fabric, and my shoulders dip with exhaustion as we follow him into the dining room. “Forgive the additional security. We are one of the only major cities left standing in the south,” he tells us as we round the end of the enormous table and through the doors into the airy palace.
I’d almost forgotten just how breathtaking this place is.
It’s built for the movement of air. For beauty, and art, and light. Even the white marble floors shimmer, reflecting the dawn just like the winding pools that flow through the space beyond the wide, central staircase. The palace won’t stand a chance should the venin venture this far south.