Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
The king’s face was a mess of wrinkles in what appeared to be leathery skin, but on closer inspection, it was covered in the toxic magical rot plaguing this kingdom. His lips looked like they were made from a prune, and his eyes were completely blood red except for the ring of black, no white to be found. A gorgeous crown sat atop his grotesque head, with an elegant, open framework of obsidian that arched to a central point. Jewels lined the base intricately, giving it a majestic appearance.
He ruffled his robes of black lined with sparkling silver accents, fairly plain compared to the princess’s. His hands looked like they had been dipped in liquid obsidian, no gray to be found. He looked out over the court, and Daisy itched to lean back, hunting for shadows within which to hide herself. But this creature would find her there, she knew. He’d probably feel her drifting in and amongst them.
The creature’s head turned slowly. Deliberately. He scanned the crowd until his gaze stopped on her.
Hello, human.
The voice was raspy and old and felt like it was covered in slime.
Her survival instinct went into overdrive. Every necessary memory or thought about self-defense, her role here, or Tarian’s plans pulled so far into her that they were lost to the void, even from her. Underneath her shield lay items he would already know, like her toy status, her human nature, and her hatred of him and fae. He’d expect that. On the surface of her mind were rambling thoughts that jumbled together, the picture of Eldric’s interpretation of a drooling human.
It was not wise for Tarianthiel to bring you here.
She didn’t respond, allowing her very real fear to color the crust of her mind and hiding her courage to face it way down deep. So deep she wondered if she’d be able to call it up again. It wasn’t just the hideousness of the creature who had sighted in on her, or its power, but its unnaturalness. Its imbalance, as the fae might say—its twisted, seething, magical-decomposing nature. She could feel, almost see, the vile magic that poured from him and drifted into the atmosphere around him, searching as though for a host. As though for someone else to infect. When this creature was in the room, more than any other, it felt like dark slime threatened to dig into her pores and twist the fabric of her being.
Power pulsed from inside of her. Pulsed and grew, like a white-hot ball of light. It pushed at her confines, wanting to break free. Wanting to douse this whole room in scalding, cleansing magic.
It was then she noticed what was in the king’s hand, mostly hidden within the billowing robes. The diamond chalice.
It pulsed again, calling to her. Begging her to save it from the filthy touch of one so obviously corroded.
Can we leave? she asked Tarian as silently as she could. This time, there were no strange body movements, save for her pulse fluttering under her skin like a trapped animal.
He is too young to know what great sport your kind proves to be, the king continued, and his eyes gleamed. A tear of blood dripped from the corner of one. You scream and scream and are always so hopeful of being saved. But no one ever comes to your rescue. My favorite is when the hope runs out…right before the mind breaks.
No, Tarian said, his voice strained. We’re here for the duration. It’s okay, I never dance. I never chat. I chase anyone away who ventures near. They know this about me. The only trouble we might have is from the royalty, as you’ve seen.
As she was seeing right now, yeah.
Tarian jolted as though struck. His head jerked, just a fraction, like he was stopping himself from looking over at her.
Ignore me, she said as the king’s words made her defiance rise up. She might scream, but she would not break. For that thing up there on the dais, she would never break. She’d stay alive long enough to kill him, even if she went down with him.
That white-hot beat pulsed inside her again and again, like a drumbeat begging her to act. To stand up and use what the gods had given her. To null the king’s magic while siphoning it, feeding it to Tarian, and taking the king down as a team.
…as a team…
The king’s disgusting voice sounded in her head. You’ve avoided my chambers twice now. When the time is right, there will not be a third.
(And that will mean your death, you leather-faced varmint. It’ll be the start of the fire.)
A Billy Joel song started to play on the surface of her brain, and for a fraction of a second, the king cocked his head in confusion. Then he was looking out over his court as he finally sat down.