Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“Perhaps Aunt Maeve will be next. She guides you, keeps a straight head on your shoulders. If I kill her, imagine how your cousins will feel. They’ll blame you forever, Caspian. For as long as they live and breathe. They’ll never forgive you for what you put them through.” His eyes flash blood red. “One hour, or I kill them all,” he snarls, and just like that, I’m back in Kessel.
I suck in a breath, coming face to face with Hassha who has her hands on my upper arms. The creature is gone, and her hands are a blazing blue. She must’ve killed it.
“What did you see?” Hassha demands, those bright eyes swirling with confusion.
Willow grabs my hand, helping me to a stand.
“How fast can you make the weapons?” I ask.
“Within twenty or thirty minutes if I have all my swordsmiths working,” she answers.
“Good. Because I only have one hour to save my family.”
Chapter 54
CAZ
“I’m afraid that I can’t lend you any of my warriors, Caspian.” Hassha has brought me and Willow to her bungalow, where her girls are still sleeping. She talks in a hushed tone, seeing as their bedroom is just around the corner. “It was risk enough sending them to The Trench. I’m afraid I can’t go to Blackwater to help you either. If the commoners hear word that I’ve been around, it becomes a risk for Kessel. My duty is to protect my daughters and my tribe, no matter the circumstance.”
“Understood.” I rake my fingers through my hair and find that I’m still shaking. I don’t shake…not anymore. But he…he killed Della. She’s gone, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Why would he kill Della?” Willow asks quietly, seated in a chair in the corner. She still can’t wrap her mind around it. I told her along the way, wanting what’d happened to be an awful nightmare, but I know it isn’t. He really killed her. That wasn’t a figment of my imagination. I feel that ache deep in my chest, knowing she’s gone.
Della was a good woman. She didn’t deserve what he did to her. It’s my fault she’s dead. I waited too long. I should’ve gone back to Blackwater as soon as I landed in Kessel.
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Willow rises from her chair, fixing her gaze on me.
“Get out of my head, Willow. Right now is not the time,” I mutter.
Hassha looks between us. “I can get you to Blackwater without a boat. It’ll require a lot of my energy, so we’ll have to do it in an open field.”
I cut my eyes at her. “Fine.”
It feels like an eternity for the weapons to be made. Hassha and Willow talk amongst themselves about that creature Decius sent, which I’ve come to learn is a Trenchmite. Hassha informs us that they’re creatures Decius creates from the bodies of wicked commoners who’ve died in The Trench. He brings them back to life and fills them with his dark energy, using them to venture to places that he can’t. According to Hassha, he’d sent several of them after her and Korah when Selah disappeared. Whatever that thing was, I hope to never see one again. Fortunately, she turned the one that attacked me to ash. She’s certain it snuck onto the boat on Decius’ orders and waited for its chance to find me.
“So, it was a zombie,” Willow says, brows dipped. “On Earth, they’re made-up things that rise from the dead and eat people’s flesh or brains.”
Hassha stares at Willow a moment. “Trenchmites do not feed on flesh or brains, but they can steal the life of someone good and use their body as their own.”
Willow shudders. “So what did Kessala mean?” she asks.
“It’s a Kessel warrior call,” Hassha explains. “Means to stand guard, prepare for an attack.”
“Oh.”
Finally, a knock sounds at the door, and Hassha opens it. Three women are on the other side with rattan baskets in hand. They enter the bungalow, dropping the baskets on the wooden table in the middle of the room.
In the baskets are weapons made from the wood of the Trench tree. After Hassha slices the center of her palm and drips blood into the basket, it emits a rapid blue light before going back to normal.
“Doused with Regal blood,” Hassha murmurs.
I draw out a knife and a sizable machete while Hassha turns for a shelf, taking down a white container. Lugging out my gun, she offers it to me, and I accept it immediately. Sure, they have their blessed weapons, but nothing beats a Blackwater gun. I’ve been trained most with guns. They’re a part of me and will be with me so long as I live and breathe.
Hassha faces one of the women standing next to the door, and the woman approaches, dropping something into her bloodied palm.