Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Beyond the empty stalls, a great castle rose. An imposing citadel of stone and steel, with towers piercing the sky and walls reinforced with slanted slats of metal. In the fading sunlight, its sloped roofs shimmered with shades of silver and blue, reminding me of the scales Jasher developed when he went full monstra. Catapults loomed atop different tiers, and banners bearing the insignia of King Ahav snapped in the wind. Arrow slits lined various walls.
The City of Lux. Where Ian, known by most only as the Guardian, would one day rule. Though the palace didn’t sit on a mountain. Not yet.
As the soldiers dismounted and passed their horses into the care of stablehands, a heavy weight settled over me. In minutes, I would stand before King Ahav, my birth father. To him, I was a stranger. A curiosity coughed up by the tide, able to command a single monster. No doubt my mother waited somewhere within these walls as well, unaware that the “oracle” she was soon to meet carried her blood.
Trepidation, elation, and terror tangled in my throat as we marched forward.
12
DISCOVERY DAY
My knees threatened mutiny, but I held them steady as I glided forward.
Captain Rourke led our procession into the palace proper, where the air changed instantly. Ash and damp leaves waned, giving way to incense and old stone. Smoke rose from wall sconces, coiling around the arches.
Each step echoed off marble, only to be swallowed by a cavernous hush. Tapestries of woven knights hung, beautiful but doing little to stifle the cold drafts seeping from the walls. More of my mother’s artwork was displayed here and there, most portraits of her beloved husband. I tried to take it all in, but a low hum of water came from somewhere deep in the keep.
We climbed a spiral staircase, the soldiers’ armor clanking a rough counterpoint to my quickening pulse. The higher we went, the more the atmosphere shifted. Less smoke, more salt, as though a churning sea hid within the walls.
Jasher walked beside me, still wearing the hat, emanating welcome heat and a scent straight from heaven. His wings whispered against the stone.
He kept his chin high, as if he owned the place. It was a good look for him. Very good.
At the landing, a massive set of doors waited, carved with the kingdom’s symbol: a sun half-swallowed by waves. My pulse tripped.
We strode through them, entering a grand chamber teeming with warriors. A war room, with an enormous wooden table covered in sprawling maps, miniature battalions and tactical markers. Flickering torches and chandeliers twined light and shadow across stone walls adorned with banners and weapons of past conquests.
A throne-shaped chair occupied the head of the table, though no one sat in it. Everyone stood along the sides, in tense discussion about battlefield reports and scouting scrolls.
I spotted Guardian Ian right away. My hands balled.
He was a tall, leanly muscled man in his early thirties with dark waves of hair and eyes like a sunset. An exact copy of Jasher, only older. Or he would have been an exact copy, if Jasher wasn’t partially morphed, his features so sharp, so monstrous, they erased any similarities. Well, other than their eyes. Would anyone notice the two men possessed identical irises?
Ian wore a soot-streaked tunic and ripped beige leathers. He was younger here than the first time I’d met him. Less polished.
He noticed us first, his gaze dancing between Jasher and me. He rapid-blinked, as if surprised by what he saw, then rubbed a spot just over his heart. A parade of emotions flashed across his face, confusion and shock the easiest to read. Had he never seen one of his clones only partially morphed?
In the end, he zeroed in on me and slitted his lids. I bit my tongue. No way he recognized me. In his timeline, we hadn’t met yet.
No accusations sprang from him. Or me, even though my anger demanded appeasement. To shout his wickedness to the world. To chain and confine him and throw away the key.
Now wasn’t the time to announce his evil. No one trusted me. But they did trust Ian.
Then, I saw him—the king—and I could think of nothing else. Awe dawned, a light shining through the shadowy corridors of my being. Before this, I’d only seen him in my mother’s paintings, when he’d worn a golden crown and a robe of the deepest purple. Today, he sported clothing similar to Ian’s, his black hair in disarray and his icy blue eyes glittering with fury and determination. He was a force of nature, a picture of power and authority, strength and confidence.
Ahav stepped from a cluster of men to point to a map. “I’m king, and this is my kingdom.” He didn’t yell, but my bones reacted as if he did. “These people are my body. You are my body. A body divided is already defeated. Your bickering stops now. We come together, and we figure this out. Understand?”