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)
It’s made of gold or some other metal very similar to it. I’m no specialist, and it does have an iridescent sheen to it like nothing I’ve ever seen. Its eyes are two smooth black stones, and the sharp teeth are carved out of some kind of crystal. From the part at the very top, several thin rods made out of the same metal as the mask stick out.
I know exactly what to do with it.
The other items I gathered lie forgotten as I rise to my feet and tiptoe back to the bedroom with the precious mask in hand. I’m greeted by a clatter of glass containers when Sylvan whispers in annoyance and pulls a bottle out of yet another crate. But as he puts it down, no longer holding anything breakable, I put the mask on and growl as loudly as I can.
With the stones set in the fake skull’s eyes, I can’t see the effect my prank is having, but I grin to myself, imagining Sylvan’s eyes widen, and his mouth opening up, as if he were about to beg for dick.
He yelps, and his feet tap my way. “Take it off!”
My heart drops from the tower of hope right back to the dungeon, and I let myself release the disappointment of it with a long exhale before pulling off the mask. “What did I do now?”
But his face is flushed and attentive. “No, no… Nothing like that,” he says, growing breathless as he takes it out of my hands. “Where did you find it? Do you know what this is?”
I don’t, but he looks so excited, I’d love to bring him five more.
“It fell out of a cabinet. What is it?”
He turns it over in his hand, runs his fingers over the smooth surface. “Hawk… This is the Sunwolf Crown. He must have been the one to steal it from that New York museum. This… this changes everything.” Sylvan stares up at me with eyes glistening a bit more than usual, but then gets to his toes and kisses me. It’s like soothing balm on a sunburn. “I’m sorry I’ve been absentminded. And I’m sorry for yelling at you. Putting it on could have been dangerous for you, but fortunately it seems that’s only the case if you do it in the Nightmare Realm.”
I swallow and stare at the strange mask with a shiver running down my body. “Dangerous for me how?”
Sylvan runs his fingers through his hair. “Whoever puts this on, will become the Sunwolf. This artifact is ancient and was lost to our realm over five hundred years ago after the killing of the first Lord of the Nocturne Court during what was called the Night of the Bloodknife. This is what I wanted to look for in the city of New York. You see, it was thanks to this very artifact that Lord Larkin Nightweed was able to stay in power for hundreds of years. We don’t know how it was forged, or by whom, but he had it created for his favorite son. The mask took away the prince’s talent for shadowcraft and turned him into a creature that was half-beast, half-elven, the Sunwolf. The metal is infused with the power of Sunlight, and when the crown merged with him, he gained the ability to devour shadowcraft and even shadow itself.
“It might seem inconsequential to you, but that power terrorized all of Lord Larkin’s descendants, in every branch of the family. The Sunwolf was able to strip shadow-wielders of their craft, and the threat of its power hung over the whole court like an axe. In the end, the princes and princesses decided to overthrow the Lord, but the Sunwolf needed to be dealt with first. There are many accounts of how it happened, though most claim the mask had to be cut from his face. But after the Night of the Bloodknife, the Sunwolf Crown was gone. Never to be seen again, until now. Someone must have felt it was too valuable to destroy, so they just hid it in the human realm.”
My face heats. “There’s a letter in the living room, addressed to that Lord Kyran you keep mentioning too. You think he wanted to sell him the mask?”
Sylvan runs his fingers over the golden rays at the top with a smirk. “I recall him saying he had ‘plans’ to end his banishment. This is what he must have meant. If he presented the Sunwolf Crown to Lord Kyran, it would have been a great service to the Nocturne Court. Perhaps he hoped my cousin would end his banishment.”
Sylvan glances toward the bathtub where we placed the grimsmith’s corpse, and as the green light of the torches colors his cheeks, I have to say he looks a little… evil. Okay, maybe sinister would be a better word for it, and while I don’t hate it, I’d rather his anger never turned on me.