Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I point to the leaf. “See? Did you even feel a thing?”
He’s quiet as he moves his gaze to me. I know he’s not happy even before his mouth opens. “You took it, even though I told you not to? What the hell, Sylvan?” he asks, scrambling to his feet, ready to march off.
“I promised to use barely the surface and that’s what I did! I bet you didn’t even feel it at all.” I stand my ground, because he’s being obtuse.
“That’s not the point,” Hawk snaps, but as I step toward him, already holding my index finger ready to poke his chest, water sprays us both, and massive black teeth close on the shadow leaf, taking it back into the depths.
We both go still, unsure what this was, but Fenren and Ivy are already on their feet, dashing away from us.
“Run! Run, run, run!” the King of Smugglers yells, and I know we’re fucked.
Chapter 29
Hawk
Wrestling an alligator would have been preferable to dealing with the beast chasing us. The truck-sized crocodile has two heads, two tails, sharp black crystals growing out of its back, and madness in its yellow eyes. Algae clings to its dark gray scales as it crawls onto the patch of dry land we’ve just vacated, and its two mouths utter asynchronous hisses that make the birds and frogs go eerily quiet.
I’m about to take Sylvan onto my back and run when Fenren passes us both, dashing back toward the monster. Air is trapped in my throat as I watch our guide toss a black ball toward the water, luring the creature away from a little brown bag he left behind.
I don’t know what could be important enough for him to risk his life like this, but I grab Sylvan’s hand when one pair of the giant’s eyes notices the elf. Like its cousin from my world, the reptile appears heavy and slow, but when it twists its body, snapping its long teeth in the very place Fenren’s left a moment ago, it’s clear we’re all in mortal danger.
Roaring like a failing engine, it charges after the smuggler, but instead of getting cornered by the thick trunk of the willow, Fenren grabs one of the lush vines and climbs the tree with the ease of a monkey. His feet slip when the reptile slams into the tree, but his hands remain tight around the vine, and as he unsheathes the weapon attached to his hip, the beast thrashes under him, attempting to leap up and collect him like a ripe fruit.
Sylvan digs his heels into the mud, refusing to let me lead. “He’s got a blackblade! No… what is this creature doing so close to the Nocturne Court?”
It’s only then that I notice the strange darkness surrounding the long dagger in Fenren’s hand. He stabs at the creature once it rests its front claws on the trunk, but the attack angers rather than frightens the monster.
“Bassals are drawn to shadowcraft!” Sylvan cries, refusing to move, even though the behemoth could reach us within seconds. “Don’t use the dagger!”
I’ve had it with this bullshit, so I grab my boy, sling him over my shoulder, and run.
Ivy’s dusky red cloak flashes close to a lone hill with a thatch of bushes growing at the top. Its side is a steep cliff, as if the slope that previously existed has crumbled long ago enough to allow for the growth of moss and small plants. Eager to hide and wait out the damn… bassal, I run so fast my feet barely touch the dirt. As I dash behind the mound, I hear the monster coming our way.
The ground shakes as though we’re on the verge of an earthquake, and the splashing of water brings to mind a horde of charging elephants, but I do the only thing I can—hold onto Sylvan’s legs and use my three remaining limbs to crawl up the steep incline that might either offer us salvation or leave us even more vulnerable to the beast.
Its thundering cries resonate in my ears by the time I roll onto the overgrown hilltop and cover Sylvan with my body in an attempt to make us both flatter, less noticeable between the grasses and shrubs. But somewhere below, the bassal keeps up its violent thrashing. I open my eyes and spot Ivy curling up behind a fallen tree. She’s tense and covers her mouth with both hands, which prompts me to press my finger to his mouth, to ensure Sylvan’s quiet, and then crawl toward the girl.
She glances my way but seems ready to snap at any moment, and I can’t blame her when I peek through the leaves and see her father leaping away from the giant reptile like a flea. He’s still holding the dagger, and it’s only when I see him against the backdrop of the moon that I notice the dark vapor surrounding the blade. It disperses into a trail of pale dust, and the bassal follows it as if it was a cocaine addict desperate for even the smallest particle of the drug.