Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
“What are you two to each other?” Destry asks, her eyes still that eerie black.
“She’s my betrothed,” Tyree says while I blurt, “He abducted me.”
She studies us for a beat. “So, it is complicated.”
“You could call it that.” Tyree chuckles. “What did you do back there, with the crows?”
“I used the light to guide them. It is a handy trick of the conjurers, both for defense and for information.”
“You’re all able to do this?”
“Yes, to varying degrees. If you see a small green bird following, it means the Azyr have found us.”
A shudder runs down my spine. “I do not think I like Udrel much.”
“We will be gone from here soon.” Tyree reaches down to squeeze my shoulder as he has done before, but this time his hand lingers, his thumb stroking over the back of my neck.
Reminding me yet again that he kissed me.
That Ybarisan mongrel kissed me.
And I didn’t hate it.
Tyree opens the curtain, revealing the wooden gate ahead and the thatched roof cottage beyond, firelight glowing from within its windows. “Whose home is this?”
Destry calls out in their language and after a lengthy rambled answer from Ezra, she says, “A merchant and one of Ezra’s best customers in Garm’s Pass. He is always good for many jars.”
“I hope not too many,” Tyree grumbles. “We need as much cover as possible.”
“Speak for yourself. I cannot wait to get out of this thing. I am desperate for a hot meal, a warm bath, and a soft bed.” The day has been long, the journey cramped, but at least we’ve reached our destination with no more attacks.
“You will get none of those tonight. Ezra does not wish to risk his friend’s life by knowing too much. You two will stay in the barn with the horses and the wagon.”
My mouth gapes. “The barn?”
Tyree bursts with laughter at my reaction.
“Shut up.” I swat his thigh.
“What? It’s better than a metal net dangling twenty feet in the air.”
“Also better than the pool of life,” Destry adds, killing his mirth.
A gruff male voice sounds outside, and she puts her finger to her mouth, silencing us.
The mortals fall into jovial conversation, Ezra laughing several times, as if he didn’t kill three bandits today and doesn’t have two highly sought-after fugitives hiding in here.
I hold my breath as the canvas flaps at the back and the men shuffle crates, the glass clanking as they unload.
Tyree’s hand clamps around his dagger, but Destry scowls and waves him off as the men go about their work. Thankfully, there are still two rows of boxes when they finish and our hiding place remains secure.
With another laugh, Ezra climbs into his seat and directs the horses forward, into the barn. My nose twitches with the potent smell of hay and farm animals.
“The stable hand has left for the night. Wait until the doors are shut before you come out.” Destry pushes past me first, then Tyree, before clambering through the opening as if she can’t get away fast enough.
“And where are you going?” he asks.
“They have good mead here. I will try to bring food for you.”
Try? “Wait!” I collect the clothing Tyree stripped off the dead man and hold it out. “Wash this.” I couldn’t bring myself to put them on.
She looks from the rags to me and back to the rags and then continues without another word.
Tyree’s shoulders shake from his silent laughter.
“I am so glad I entertain you.” I toss them at his face, which only seems to amuse him more.
A gentle hand suddenly appears through the curtain, turned upward. Uda smiles and nods at me as she collects the clothing from Tyree, saying something in her language that I hope means “wash.”
“Thank you.” I flash her a broad smile. “See? Some of these mortals are civilized.”
“She isn’t offering because she serves you. She is offering because you saved her life today. Not all mortals are beneath you.”
I sniff. “But I am of royal descent.” Technically, everyone is beneath me.
“That means nothing here.” Tyree sighs. “Come on, Your Highness. Let’s see this loft we will be spending the night in.”
“I will be spending the night in,” I correct.
“And where will I go?”
“I’m sure there is a pen for the swine somewhere in here.”
His laughter trails me.
Destry’s odd little face appears at the top of the loft ladder. She regards the makeshift pallet of hay and a wool blanket Tyree rooted out of a chest in the tack room below. “You have your soft bed after all.”
“I suppose.” Though it is far from comfortable.
“Where is Ty?”
His nickname sounds odd on her tongue. “I do not know. He went out the back.”
“He is not supposed to go anywhere.” With a deep sigh, she sets a parchment-wrapped package on the floor.
“I was sure you had forgotten about us.” My stomach growls to punctuate my irritation.