Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
I hurry to the top of the steps, stopping only when I hear voices floating up from below.
"But Rissa—"
"No, Abigail. You won't fall, so it won't ever come to that."
Abigail. Rissa. Two of my sisters. I grip the banister, straining for every word they speak, my heart in my throat.
"It could," Abigail whispers, her voice barely audible. "I've seen it."
"And I've seen your Light. I've seen our Light," Rissa retorts, her voice firm. "I'll bet on it any day of the week. But I won't agree to kill you. I don't care what's a stake."
"If I fall, you might not have a choice."
"If you fall, we're already lost," a new voice says. Tori. This must be Tori. "Everything is."
All three of my sisters are gathered below. An intense desire to see them for myself rushes through me. Before I can stop myself, I start down the steps, tiptoeing carefully.
Clearly, I'm not careful enough. I'm not even halfway down when all three of the women at the table turn to look at me.
I don't know who is who, but the woman at the head of the table has dark hair that falls in waves around her shoulders and brilliant blue eyes. There's a protective fierceness about her, as if she views herself as responsible for other women at the table.
The petite, curvy woman beside her looks small and delicate with her blonde hair pulled back from her face and her eyes wide as she stares at me. She radiates warmth and gentleness.
My heart clenches at the sight of the third woman, her vibrant red hair cascading down her back. She looks so young, yet her eyes hold wisdom far beyond her years, as if she's seen more than anyone ever should. There's a vulnerability to her, a sense of innocence that makes me want to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world.
I pause as they stare at me, my heart in my throat. "Hi," I whisper, licking my lips nervously. "Um, I can't find Malachi."
"Marion," the woman with raven hair quickly rises to her feet, crossing toward me.
I eye her warily.
"I'm Rissa," she says, a welcoming smile on her face. "Malachi went out with the other warriors to examine the walls. He should be back soon."
"Oh," I whisper, fidgeting from foot to foot.
"Would you like to sit with us for a while? We don't get a lot of time alone, so we enjoy it while we can." Rissa grins at me, rolling her eyes. "The Fae are usually breathing down our necks at all hours of the day."
I hesitate and then nod.
Rissa loops her arm through mine, and we turn toward the massive table just in time to see Abigail collapse back against her chair, shivering uncontrollably.
"Abigail." Tori grabs her hand, concern etched across her face. "What's wrong?"
Rissa and I hurry toward them. Abigail's eyes lock with mine, and I narrowly avoid flinching away from the fear blazing in her gaze.
"Marion isn't the Valkyrie I saw in my vision," she whispers, her voice shaking. "They still have our sister."
Tori gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "But that means…"
"They have the blood of all five of us," Abigail finishes for her. "They're coming for the pieces of the Bifröst."
The Forsaken must not get the Bifröst.
My mother's warning flashes through my mind, but I don't understand it any better now than I did then.
"I'm guessing this is bad?" I ask, glancing between the three of them for confirmation.
"So bad," Tori whispers. "Fates of worlds bad. Billions of souls at risk bad."
I pale, anxiety coursing through me. Is this what Malachi was telling me, then? They need whatever this Bifröst is to help them reopen the portal?
"We have to let Damrion know," Rissa says, grabbing Abigail's hand to pull her up from the chair. "If the shards are anywhere near here, he has to get them out of here now."
Abigail nods, rushing toward the door with our sisters. I hang back, not sure what to do with myself, until Tori turns to glance at me.
"You should come too," she says, holding out her hand toward me. "We're safer when we're together."
I nod gratefully, grasping her hand.
"Here." Rissa slides a pair of boots across the floor toward me. "These look like they'll fit you."
I glance down at the rain boots, swallow the lump in my throat, and quickly shove my feet inside. My sisters are a flurry of activity around me, shoving their arms into coats. Abigail holds one out to me, helping zip me into it. It's far too big, swallowing me.
"You'll need it," she says. "It's freezing up here."
I understand what she means as soon as Rissa throws the door open. The biting cold slaps me across the face as we burst out, the frigid air stealing my breath. I gape at the familiar village before me, my mind reeling. It's the same place the Forsaken brought me, but it looks nothing like the hellish stronghold I remember. Any trace of their foul presence has been scrubbed clean, replaced by fortified walls and deep defensive pits.