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)
Jasher tugged me backward, out of the contact zone. The lines separated, one going left, the other heading right. Their bright, cheery music filled the air. When the last player found his mark, women wearing gauzy dresses danced out, each throwing colorful flower petals that twirled to the ground, creating a soft carpet and filling the sweetened air with a floral perfume.
In a mimic of the band, two lines of armed guards decked out in full silver armor, followed. The shields on their helmets hid their faces. They, too, split down the middle and branched off, joining the band while the women continued to dance all around in time to the music.
Leona laughed, clapped, and reached up to catch petals while Patch stood stiff and uncertain, as if preparing to fight everyone. Heart thumping, I inched closer to Jasher. To my great delight, he tightened his hold on my hand.
Comfort rained over me. “Is this a standard welcome?” I whispered.
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Not even close.”
A tall, leanly muscled and very familiar man with dark waves of hair and eyes like a sunset emerged with a toothy grin, his arms spread wide. “Welcome, welcome.” He was an older version of Jasher. An exact copy, actually, aged thirty or so years, and he wore a white tunic and beige leathers. “I am the Guardian of this great city.”
Shock. Betrayal. Wariness. Those and a thousand other emotions hit me all at once. When the synapsis in my brain started firing again, I twisted on my heels, glaring up at Jasher. “The Guardian is your father.” No wonder he didn’t need a stable of sacrifices.
He released me and jutted his chin. “He is not.”
“You should have told—” Wait. “He isn’t?”
“Please, call me Ian.” The Guardian turned his focus to his younger doppelgänger. “I’m not his father, no.”
Leona squealed and waved to catch his attention. “We brought Moriah. I believe there was mention of a prize.”
“For each of us,” Patch interjected.
The Guardian—Ian—held up his hand in a bid for silence. “You’ll have your reward, ladies. We’ll discuss it tomorrow at breakfast. For now, there are more important matters.”
The mayor nodded with exuberance. “As long as we do discuss it.”
“All royal soldiers are my clones,” Ian told me. He waved a hand, and the armed men removed their helmets, revealing faces identical to Jasher’s.
I shook my head. Blinked. “You…this is…why?”
Lines of sadness bracketed Ian’s mouth. “When rebels will pay any price for your death, you can trust no one with your protection but yourself.”
Jasher remained as still and quiet as a statue, staring straight ahead.
Thoughts in my head whirled and jumbled at record speed. A clone. Of the Guardian. And there were numerous others. Countless others. Of him. The clone. Of the Guardian. The madness of it all confounded me. “You told me you were a triplet.”
“The truth wouldn’t have changed anything but the way you viewed me.” His expression revealed nothing. Still he didn’t meet my gaze.
“That you believe such garbage about me is the reason I’m ticked.” I trusted him, but he’d never trusted me. Without trust, we had nothing.
He swallowed before telling his maker, “Anders is missing.”
“Not any longer. He’s here.” Anger marred Ian’s features. An expression I’d seen Jasher adopt, too. “Your brother got drunk in a village and passed out. His uniform was stolen and found beneath a chapel, strapped to the thief. Anders must learn the error of his ways before he’s allowed to return to his post.”
I flinched at the mention of the chapel. At least we had an answer now and Jasher had found his brother.
“How did you clone so many soldiers?” I asked the Guardian.
“We might not have the same technologies as your world, but we aren’t primitive, my dear.” He motioned to Jasher. “Join your brethren.” Despite his jovial tone, there was no mistaking his command.
Jasher gave no verbal response and didn’t glance my way, just stalked to the group, taking a spot among them.
Dots connected, and realization slapped me. When he wore his armor, I wouldn’t be able to tell him apart from the others.
The Guardian clasped my hands, drawing my attention. His gaze dropped to my wringing fingers, to my heating ring specifically, and his lids narrowed. I stiffened. If he decided to take my treasure, I’d have nothing to offer him in trade for his aid.
Better to offer him a deal first. “I’d like to make a bargain with you.”
His eyes flipped up to mine, and he nodded. “Yes, you wish to return home with serpens-rosa to heal your father. I’m willing to help you do this for nothing more than conversation. However, I can’t open and navigate the portal until tomorrow evening. So. Until then, you’ll stay in my home as my honored guest.”
Suspicions immediately surged. How did he know about my father? “From everything I’ve experienced in Hakeldama, your offer is too good to be true.”