Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
My stomach shifted with unease as confusion rose. Like last night, I didn’t sense him. He wasn’t here, but…
His will was.
An arrow hissed past me, striking a ceeren on the side of the ship, jolting me from my stupor. What was I doing just standing here?
Stepping forward, I summoned the eather, and it responded at once, filling my veins and tinting my vision with gold-laced shadows. Essence sparked from my fingertips as I raised my right hand. I focused on the ceeren that had reached the rails of the ship. Crackling, spitting light erupted from my fingertips, arcing in the space between me and the vessel and striking the ceeren as it launched itself over the railing.
The wind picked up again, whipping at the edges of my blouse and dampening my face with mist from the sea as I searched for Casteel’s unique mark. Finding the lush scent of dark spices, pine, and winter citrus, I opened the notam to him as I sent a bolt of eather racing over the docks to take out another ceeren.
This is Kolis’s vellá. His will, I told him, as a wave of new riders rose from the sea. A volley of arrows came down, less than half striking targets. I threw out my other hand as Casteel’s presence brushed my thoughts.
Then, let’s show him what we think of his will.
I smiled as the eather followed my will, erupting in a web that descended on the ceeren climbing the ship, shattering them instantaneously.
The clang of a sword jerked my attention toward the city. Soldiers and guards met the ceeren in the streets in a clash of bloodstone against shadowstone, some on horseback and others on foot.
I found Casteel in the chaos. It was impossible not to when he moved with such predatory grace, swiping a bloodstone sword through the bony leg of a seahorse whose rider had just struck down a guard. Casteel darted toward a low stone wall, jumped off it, and spun, driving the sword through the chest of a rider. He landed in a crouch, rising smoothly as his gaze connected with mine.
He smirked, then spun on another rider.
So damn arrogant.
Not too far behind him was Kieran, wielding two swords. And on horseback was…Malik. He’d found a horse and, apparently, a weapon. I watched Casteel’s brother as I gave myself a moment for the essence to level out. I’d never seen him fight before. He charged down the narrow, steep streets, hovering over the saddle with knees locked tight on the horse’s flanks as he swept his sword in a brutal arc and cut down a rider. Movement near the bluff snatched my attention.
My stomach tightened as Casteel rushed down the incline, jumping from the rocks. I immediately recognized Delano and the blackish-gray wolven beside him. Sage. She leaped in a blur of fur and muscle, slamming into a rider with bone-jarring force. I cringed as she sank her teeth into the thin strips of skin around the ceeren’s throat. That could not taste good.
Lip curling, I started toward the wharf, knowing there would have to be fallen swords I could—
The dock suddenly rattled, causing my heart to skip a beat. I took a step back as the sea started to froth, sending sprays of water across the wood. The planks splintered with a sharp crack. A bony hand broke through like something straight from a nightmare, clamping down on my ankle, its touch cold and slimy as it yanked hard. I swallowed a yelp as dull pain shot up my leg. I lost my footing on the water-slick wood and went down hard on my back as another fist punched through the dock, splitting the boards. The whole structure shuddered and groaned as cracks raced across the space between the two hands. The ceeren’s head and shoulders burst through, and clumps of matted hair and seaweed clung to its skull as it snapped up. I couldn’t tell if it was male or female, but there was no flesh on its torso, and I could see straight into the hollow cavity of its rib cage. But it had lips and eyes—eyes that were vast and as black as an abyss except for the center that burned with the crimson glow of Death. The lips peeled back, baring jagged teeth a Craven would be envious of as it lifted its lower half from the hole.
The ceeren laughed, the sound thick and wet as it spewed brackish water that smelled like a foul mixture of something sickly sweet and rotted fish.
“I’m going to vomit,” I whispered, the bile building in the back of my throat as I unsheathed my shadowstone dagger.
The laughing stopped, and it cocked its head.
“Right in your face,” I finished, jerking upward as I thrust the blade into its chest.
Bones—soft bones—cracked a second before the ceeren shattered into repulsive-smelling ash.