Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
First amusement, then an almost joke? Where had the ice man gone?
“What is it you do for silvers at home?” he asked, catching me off guard.
“I tend my family’s farm and wait tables, serving food to strangers.”
His brow wrinkled. “Did you always dream of doing this?”
“I’ve never known what I wanted to do with my life,” I admitted. Nothing had ever felt right.
We reached the riverbank and lapsed into silence once again. I clambered to shore; Jasher glided there. Droplets dripped from his hair and rolled over his wealth of swells and hollows. Unfortunately, I didn’t experience the miracle of instant drying, as I’d done at the Governor’s Guild.
Wringing excess water from my braids, I examined the area. Huh. The bountiful fruit trees I’d drooled over no longer showcased an abundant crop of deliciousness. Barren branches taunted me. They couldn’t have shed their supply so quickly. No produce lay on the ground. Had critters eaten everything?
Frustrated, confused and yes, saddened, I focused on Jasher and the dry clothing he thrust in my direction. A tunic and a pair of leathers. Next he dropped a pair of combat boots at my feet. Almost my size. Dare I ask where they’d come from?
Screw it. I wished to know. “You pilfered these from a bounty hunter, didn’t you?”
“The leathers and boots, yes.” His harsh tone suggested I not whine about it. Or else.
Ah. There he was: the heartless executioner able to chop off heads without a moment of remorse.
Won’t wallow in guilt, won’t wallow in guilt. The hunters had planned to return me to West against my will. They weren’t—hadn’t been?—good people.
“Change.” Spinning on his heel, Jasher offered me his back. A shockingly gracious move and probably not something he did for just anyone. Being an “enforcer,” he must have trust issues and an aversion to vulnerability. By allowing someone to stand at his six, he risked attack.
“Thank you,” I rasped. Overjoyed to exchange the wet material for dry and the sandals for the boots, I made the switches in a hurry. The scent of sandalwood and orchids filled my nose as the top settled into place. The same incredible scent I’d encountered at the public execution. His scent. I breathed deep, savoring, and tried not to hate myself.
Though he never glanced over his shoulder, he knew the exact moment I finished tying the boots. Once again, he strode forward, expecting me to trail him. Which I did. We paused at the beginning of a road. It wasn’t yellow, but gray and rundown, with smears of red here and there, and it led straight into the forest.
“If ever we get separated,” he said without glancing over his shoulder, “stick to the path. Some refer to it as Dead Man’s Pass, but all know it’s the safest route to Lux.” He started forward, his boots thumping against the stones.
“The name doesn’t exactly evoke confidence. And that’s the last thing I’m going to say. For now.” I followed him, silent as advertised, shuffle-stepping the closer we came to the forest entrance. An arched opening banked by two towering trees with interconnected limbs overhead.
Though Jasher passed the threshold without pause, I hesitated. Did I truly want to do this?
Just before he disappeared into a thicket, I sprinted after him. Yes. Yes, I did. Curse or no curse.
A sudden, sharp burning sensation on my left hand wrenched a gasp from me, and I glanced down. Frowned. A bruise appeared on the base of my ring finger. Uh, what’d I do?
The pain was forgotten as my instincts shouted, Danger! My breath quickened, and my gaze darted. The gray path wound through clusters of gnarled trees, where more of those three-eyed birds perched.
Trepidation overtook me, an inner storm I couldn’t halt. Funny thing: it, too, came with destructive monsters. Namely doubt—was I a fool for doing this? And worry—what if I failed my father?
“Oomph!” I slammed into Jasher when he stopped abruptly yet again. To steady myself, I flattened my hands against his back. Yikes! The heat of his skin. The hardness of his muscles.
“Focus,” he snapped.
Right. “Apologies,” I mumbled.
He started forward, silent. I tracked him, switching my concentration between his form and the landscape. Around a cluster of trees, large flowers dazzled in a wild assortment of colors and shapes. In fact, each resembled a musical instrument of some sort. From horns, to guitars, drums, and even saxophones. Hmm. My ears twitched. They might even emit a soft melody.
I listened more intently. They did emit a melody! And what a lovely song. Slow and sweet, with a steady heartbeat hidden within the chorus. I stopped and closed my eyes, savoring the serenade. I’m not sure how much time passed before I decided I needed to get closer. Needed to sift the petals between my fingers and feel the heartbeat against my skin.