Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I thought of the ghosts that appeared to me when I killed my father. “Why does my heart like your family’s blood?”
“I don’t know why. You would have to ask your mother’s people. There’s something in your bloodline that just works different.” The Bandit tilted her head slightly and with deliberate slowness, she reached up and removed her feathered cowboy hat.
At first, it seemed simple enough—a ghostly figure performing a mundane gesture—but as the brim left, I froze.
The top of her head was gone.
Just. . .gone.
Where there should have been a smooth curve of skull or wisps of hair, there was a jagged, hollow opening, as if someone had cleaved it clean off.
For the first time since seeing her long ago, I wondered how she died.
I couldn’t stop staring and leaned a tiny bit closer.
Her spectral form glowed as green as ever but inside the hole in her head, it was just a void. There was no light, no ethereal shimmer—just endless darkness.
Then, as though the sight wasn’t already strange enough, two long braids fell to her shoulders, swaying gently with the breeze.
They seemed completely out of place.
My eyes stayed glued to the hole in her head, no matter how much I wanted to look away.
It wasn’t grotesque—it didn’t bleed, didn’t shift—but it was wrong, a violation of everything my senses understood.
She spoke. “I don’t know what tribe we were but they all had the good blood too.”
From the darkness inside her head, something stirred.
I stiffened.
“Evil men brought us to this country and put us in chains. My people. All with the good blood.”
A sharp beak appeared at the top of her cut-off head, then soon the crow owning the beak poked it’s head out.
I blinked.
This bird wasn’t translucent or glowing green.
It was solid.
Tangible.
Real.
The Bandit continued. “We built every historical building in Paradise City, Glory, and other nearby cities.”
Slowly, the crow crawled out of the hole in the Bandit’s head. Its talons scraped against the edges of the void and the Bandit’s scalp.
Its feathers caught the red moon’s light.
“Don’t believe those history books.” She turned to me and the crow stared at me too with cold, glassy eyes. “Zachariah Glory didn’t do anything but rape and yell out orders to slaves.”
My breath quickened as the crow leaped out of her head and flew off into the night.
Her braids swayed slightly. “We fought wars. When they finally let us go, we built our own town from land they thought was useless. Crownsville was ours. We didn’t bother them; they didn’t bother us.”
Her voice cracked, and she drew in a sharp breath. “Then, I. . .”
“Then what?”
“Then, I. . .ruined it.”
“How?”
She placed that hat back on her head. “I fell in love with the wrong man.”
The last echoes of the crow’s wings faded into the night; I turned my gaze back to the lake. “Who?”
“That doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead.”
The wind rippled across its surface.
The playful crows from earlier had stopped circling and frolicking over the water. Now, they perched in the trees surrounding us, watching.
Tension gathered in my shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”
“The way our blood works. It won’t rest until justice is served. That’s why we stay here. We’re waiting.”
“How would I give you all justice?”
“We built Crownsville. We bled for it. And now it’s time for our descendants to reclaim it.”
“How do you want me to do that?”
“Evil men buried all their dirty secrets with murky water." Her silhouette flared green. “Get rid of the water.”
The absurdity of the task tickled at the back of my mind, but then again, what was ordinary in my world anymore—scheming father, handcuffed new love, crows, ghosts, and a translucent bandit.
Surely, I could add getting rid of Dream Lake to the list.
But could I really do it?
I thought back to what my father had said the night he’d kidnapped Moni.
My father’s eyes glimmered with this calculated intensity as he placed his other hand on TT’s shoulder, like a serpent coiling itself around its prey. “This little girl will not only fully unite the Diamond Syndicate but she will make us the most powerful and richest organization in the world. Do you understand this?”
I scowled. “You think a treasure at the bottom of the lake will have all of those effects?”
“It’s what you all will do to get to the hidden treasure that will unify and strengthen the Syndicate.” He moved his hands from TT’s shoulders and then he placed them on the map.
Soon, he trailed his fingers across the jagged daggered surface and made a huge circle around the town. “All of this is Dream Lake now.”
I frowned. “We know that.”
“Yes, son. But. . .in order to get to the treasure,” He looked up at us. “you’ll need to drain Dream Lake.”
I stepped forward. “That’s impossible.”
My father chuckled. “Is it?”
“It’s a massive lake, father. Do you realize how many people would oppose that? Environmentalists alone would raise hell.”