Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
His thumb moved over her lips. You’ll be right behind me, little dove—
But she’d already slithered and pushed her way past him to the ladder, feeling it in her gut that she needed to do this. That she had dialed in on that creature and was the best person to ensure their survival. At least in the first phase of this endeavor.
She felt his head shaking, confused yet intrigued that she should be able to ignore him and get her way so easily. She felt his complete unwillingness to let her take the lead, but they’d made a pact in the caverns to trust each other when their lives depended on it. So he sighed. And shifted his weight. And finally said, Okay. But Daisy, be careful. If we can’t do it, we’ll sleep in this tunnel.
Can’t we go ask for admittance into one of the other shanties?
Not after their ward is put in place. They won’t be able to hear us knocking and will be beyond the reach of mind touch. But that’s okay. That creature won’t stay out there forever, and it can’t blow fire or fit into these tunnels. If we can’t get that door closed, we’ll just pass an uncomfortable night together. It’ll be fine. We have options.
Assuming she didn’t get seen at the wrong time and killed before she could get back to the tunnel.
Assuming that, he said.
She shook her head and saw the flash of uncertainty on her face before it hardened again. How often did she let that expression through, she wondered? That physical glimpse into what was really going on in her mind.
Every time you do something that requires great courage, he whispered in her mind, like a caress. We are all mortal with the right wound.
It must’ve been one of the fae’s sayings, immortal until they were killed.
She nodded and felt for the rungs, made it to the top, and shoved him out of her mind. He fled immediately, having felt her desire for space. Or maybe she was getting the hang of things.
Her hand curled around the latch, and she clued in to her surroundings. The wylds were waiting, tricksy and playful and ready for games, violent or fun or both, one never knew. Within that, though, was the darkrend. Twisting and rolling and turning the lush life around it to ash. A scourge. Unbalance. It was plain as day, like being able to tell if someone was magical or not just by watching them move. Watching them interact. At the heart of it, that was nothing more than a feeling, too. Like this.
She had great instincts—Zorn had always said so. She’d lived by them, as he’d always said she should.
The darkrend searched. Looked. Destroyed. Its attention was elsewhere, but the gaping hole that was the doorway to their shanty stood open. The moonlight from the window danced across the dark space.
She edged the trapdoor open slowly. Tarian moved over her feet, his chest touching her bare ankles. He was ready to go up right after her.
If it doesn’t see, it doesn’t know, she thought to herself.
The trapdoor opened away from the wall, shielding her. She peered around it, only able to see a slice out of the front door. Through it, the moonlight showed the darkrend in all its glory, ripping through the wreckage it had caused, trying to scratch its way to the bottom. It knew she and the others had disappeared within it.
She crawled out to minimize obvious movement, watching where she put her hands and careful not to slide against the floor. She bear-crawled to the side of the room before standing against the wall. The window, the shade pulled up, stood to her right. Tarian waited in the trapdoor opening, watching her. She nodded at him, giving him the all-clear.
Except for stalling to gently close the trapdoor after him, he came faster but just as quietly, flattening against the wall with her. Nothing to it.
A pulse rocked the room, dense and focused, looking for its prey. The sounds of scratching and stomping in the destruction slowed, the creature’s focus shifting. Another compression came, then another, beating into them. In a moment it would know where they were, if it didn’t already.
Shit, she mentally bit out as her teeth chattered with fear. Tarian’s fingers curled around her wrist. Go, she mentally barked, and ran.
He was right behind her. The compression of huge feet shook the ground, heading right for them. Tarian and Daisy reached the opened door together. The darkrend lunged, ten feet away, half the length of its body.
“Say the magic,” she shouted, her palms hitting the door as his did. They slammed it shut together. The lock latched, the last word leaving his mouth at the same time as the darkrend hit. The wood bowed as though in slow motion, started to split, and then all went still. Silence filled the space.