Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“A lot, yes,” I replied.
“She is exceptional,” Hannon said.
I scowled at him as she glanced back at us with humor in her brown eyes. “Exceptional, huh? Hmm. We shall see.”
She looked down for a moment, probably catching a glimmer as the sun sparkled off my sword, and then did a double take.
“Quite a sword,” she said, scowling. “Warriors wear swords like that. Rich folk.”
“It was a gift,” I replied, feeling a little defensive for reasons I couldn’t explain.
“What is your name?”
“Finley. This is Hannon.”
“Some gift. Are you expecting trouble, Finley?”
“No. I just…” I touched the hilt, and an honest answer blurted out of me. “I want to remember the man who gave it to me.”
She continued to study me, as though searching for something. Maybe a better explanation. Or maybe she wanted to judge whether I was lying and planned to stab her in the back. After a moment, though, she gave me a curt nod and continued along without a word.
“Ami,” she called after going through a little gate in the waist-high picket fence surrounding the backyard. “Ami, you have visitors.”
We stopped at the fence, not quite sure about crossing the threshold unless specifically invited.
A woman emerged from the back door with a basket of her own. Probably edging in on fifty years old, she had wheat-colored hair tinged with red and a lovely face with soft lines in it. She wore plain clothes, but the way she carried herself seemed almost regal, like she was stuck in a simple life now but would one day rise to a lofty perch. Her apron was the same style as the other woman’s, smeared with whatever she’d been working on.
“This girl over here—Finley—has a mighty fine sword.” The woman who had led us over set her basket by the wall. “Says she’s from Wyvern. Came in with Micah’s group. Her brother Hannon says she is exceptional with everlass.”
Ami’s expression remained unchanged as she took all of this in. She pulled up her apron and wiped her hands as she walked toward us.
“Wyvern,” she said, looking at the sword. “I haven’t heard that name spoken in a long time. Yes, that is a very fine sword indeed. We don’t have that kind of workmanship here in this collection of villages. Swords are considered more ornamental. We fight with claws and teeth. Are you a—”
She tensed when she got close, her eyes turning intense. She must’ve caught Nyfain’s scent.
“Are you a dragon, Finley?” she finished with a tight jaw.
“Yes…we think. My true mate is a dragon, but I haven’t shifted yet—it’s a long story. Micah is supposed to help me, but he’s been delayed.”
“Micah is very powerful. Nearly as powerful as that scent you wear. But you do not need a powerful teacher—you just need one with experience. Claudile and I have plenty.” Her clear blue eyes flicked to Hannon. “And you, Hannon? Have you shifted?”
“No. I tried but couldn’t.”
“And you think you are a dragon as well?”
He shrugged. “We don’t know what I am. Our parents were both wolves, but…Wyvern has fallen on desperate times, and there is an element of surprise in people’s animals of late.”
“Myths becoming reality.” Ami smoothed her apron. “Well then. Since you are delayed, and are exceptional with everlass, maybe you’ll tell me this long story as we work the plants, hmm? We can always use an extra pair of hands. After that, we’ll see about shifting. I’m sure you’re eager to learn the color of your scales.”
Tell that story fast, my dragon thought. I want to finally be set free. I’m sick of being at the mercy of your invisible friends and dumb decisions. It’s time for this bad bitch to fly.
I didn’t tell the story fast, but the words flowed out of me. Our family’s trials. My background with the everlass. How I’d met Nyfain and discovered he was my true mate. They’d heard about the dungeon, so they didn’t ask me to recount much of that except for a few questions about how we’d escaped. They both smiled when I told them about killing the officers with the crowded everlass, but otherwise they just let my words tumble out freely as they tended to the garden and the steaming elixirs. I worked with them, pruning.
When I’d finished, silence stretched for a long moment, the soft breeze drying my tears and my heart still aching for what I feared I was losing. For this delay that was keeping me from my love and my family.
“It sounds like you’ve had a hard life,” Ami finally said as she glided over to collect the herbs I was cutting.
“I’m still alive. It’s worth the struggle to save those I love.”
“And what of this true mate you speak of?” Claudile asked. “He is sacrificing for you, it sounds like. He wants you to leave and not return. To save yourself and be happy. Would you not consider it?”