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)
Time crept by slowly. It could’ve been minutes, but more likely, it had been hours. I didn’t sleep. I just kept repeating that prayer over and over—
A warm breath of air stirred the hair at the nape of my neck, causing my eyes to fly open.
What in the fuck was that?
Rising onto an elbow, I glanced around the chamber, seeing nothing to explain it. I started to lay back down when I felt it: a subtle tremor running through the fingers entwined with mine. It was the faintest of movements, just a flutter, but it still sent a shockwave of sensation through me. I glanced from Poppy’s hand to her face, searching her features for any signs of consciousness. Her eyes were still closed, and the hand I held was far too cool, but—oh, gods—a rosy color had returned to her cheeks and seeped down her throat.
I opened my mouth to say her name, but it was like I’d lost the ability to speak. I tried again—
A brilliant light flooded the chamber as a wave of pure, unfettered power swept in.
Unprepared, my hand slipped free from Poppy’s, and something threw me back. I hit the wall with a grunt but landed on my feet, my head jerking up. A hum started in my blood as a silvery glow lit up the thick, gnarled roots that spilled onto the floor from the window.
Eather.
The very same Primal power swelled in my chest, responding to the charged air. The essence crackled and hissed as it flowed over the roots on the floor. The churning, silver glow swirled over the roots that draped over Poppy’s legs and then washed over the last of the roots lying across her chest.
The gleam of eather brightened to a point where it was almost too painful to look at. The roots then shuddered, and as the luminescence of eather faded, they broke apart, shattering into a fine, shimmering dust that vanished before it touched the floor or any of Poppy’s skin. Pushing to my feet, I staggered toward the bed on weak legs, knowing that the…
The Queen of the Gods had answered my prayers.
POPPY
My palms glided over reddish-orange wildflowers as I made my way through a field bathed in bright, golden sunlight. The tall, wispy flowers skimmed my knees as they swayed in the breeze. My steps slowed. There was something distinctly familiar about this field, and its beauty was almost magical, but all I felt was sorrow, helplessness, and inevitability.
But the inevitability of what?
You know.
Tiny bumps broke out over my skin at the whisper in the wind. It wasn’t like what I heard in the darkness. This sounded like my voice.
I turned slowly, and the field of flowers faded into a thin mist. Through the wispy vapor, I saw gold steeples, but it was the glossy black spires in the distance that held my attention.
Heart lurching, I stepped back as the wind seethed in my voice. Liar. Thief. Manipulator. Murderer. Monster.
The hem of my thin nightgown fluttered at my calves, drawing my attention. The material was white.
I didn’t like the color white.
Bitter, suffocating desolation washed over me, conjuring brief flashes of gold walls and floors. Gold bars—
The delicate, soft hum of some unknown melody suddenly filled the meadow, jerking me from the flashing images. I spun, searching the field until my gaze landed on her.
She was bent slightly, her back to me, cradling a woven basket in her arms. Her long, unbound hair cascaded across the back of her cream gown, glowing like burnt copper in the sunlight.
“Hello?” I called out.
The humming ceased, but she didn’t turn to me.
Clearing my throat, I crept forward. “Can…can you hear me?”
She straightened and placed a long-stemmed flower in her basket. “I’ve always heard you.”
I blinked, my lips parting as I stared at her. My stomach started to twist with unease. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am.”
My heart lurched. Her voice…
“And you know where you are,” she continued. “You’ve been here countless times before, in one way or another.”
A frown tugged at my lips as I turned toward the mist still shrouding the Temples and the city below. I turned to the towering slate rocks of the Elysium Peaks. My stomach twisted further. I knew this place. The cliffs were…
“The Cliffs of Sorrow,” I said.
The wind lifted a strand of her deep-red hair as clouds appeared above, casting a shadow that slithered across the meadow. “He’s calling to you,” she said, her head cocking to the side. “You should go to him.”
“What?” I didn’t hear anyone calling out to me.
“Listen. You’ll hear him.” She dipped and plucked another flower. “Just listen.”
“I don’t…” I trailed off, hearing something in the wind.
A name was being called.
Poppy.
The wind tumbled through the meadow, carrying more of his words with it. “Please open your eyes again and return to me.”