Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Get her. Hurry up,” the one at the cell door said. “This place stinks.”
She didn’t notice the key until the fae in front of her had lifted his hands to the manacles. Metal clinked before it released, and he stepped around her hanging frame to do the other. She dropped fully to the ground, hitting her knees against the stone floor before rubbing at her wrists. She glanced up in time to see that leather boot, freshly polished but nearly worn through, swing toward her. She rolled as quickly as she could, but the blow connected with her side, knocking the wind out of her.
“Get up!” he barked.
Fucking fae. These didn’t have any more patience than the blue ones that had abducted her.
She treated the situation similarly, doing as they wanted but letting out sounds of panic and fear as she did.
The one near the door walked through, his eyes tight after seeing the mangled corpse still on display. A rickety wooden ladder waited near it, but either they hadn’t gotten around to freeing the body, or Tarian had magically made it so they couldn’t.
Two creatures that were this castle’s version of prison guards waited in the shadows. Darkness obscured their faces, but they were watching the situation.
“Your betters will be hearing of this,” the fae who held Daisy hissed at them. “This is your job, not ours. We should not have to come all the way in here to get the human. You’ll be destroyed for this, mark my words.”
The fae who held Daisy tensed as he yanked her out of the cell, his face long as he looked at Tarian’s display. It seemed the prison guards had taken the warning to heart. They didn’t want to end up like their comrade, regardless of who was giving the orders.
The prison guards didn’t respond, and the fae kept grumbling, pulling a handkerchief out of a pocket Daisy hadn’t noticed and placing it to his nose. He led the way toward the tunnel Lennox and Kayla had taken her through earlier. Or was it yesterday?
They each breathed a sigh of relief once they were far enough out, taking in lungfuls of air. The one in the lead ran his fingers through short-cropped hair. They didn’t spend much time, if any, in those dungeons.
Around a couple corners and they headed a different direction than Daisy had been before. The interior of the halls looked similar, but the walls were starting to spread wider apart. The ceiling began to climb. Paintings hung along the walls, bloody affairs with crimson splatter and broken weapons. Servants increased in number, their clothing equally fine as those who were escorting Daisy and sometimes more so, with more embroidery and occasionally pearls or other shiny objects sewn into the fabric.
Daisy’s stomach churned as they turned another two corners, the finery of the halls becoming obvious and ornate golden and onyx chandeliers dripping from the ceiling. They were taking her to someone important. Her gut said it wasn’t Tarian. That it was someone who wanted to have fun with a strange new addition to their cages. Based on what the guards had said, it was likely the king.
She kept her hands from tightening into fists. They hadn’t restrained her. That was a stroke of luck. She could do great damage very quickly when in a tight spot.
Zorn’s voice rolled through her head. If you can save yourself, don’t wait. Being on the run gives you better odds than being locked in a box.
Her gaze flicked down to the knife sticking out of her captor’s sheath, ripe for the plucking. Her own knife had been taken again when she was put back into the dungeon. She could snatch this one before they locked her in a room and use it before they knew it was gone. The king’s magic wouldn’t save him as he died from a quick-acting fatal wound. If it was the king—hopefully, it was someone with less status and power. Less danger.
Adrenaline seeped into her blood, carefully contained. She ensured her movements stayed consistent and hoped to fucking hell the magic meant to contain her thoughts had started working.
She felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, a heightened awareness pulling at her. Pressure throbbed around her, someone’s focus tracking her. Someone’s gaze bearing down. She’d gotten very familiar with this sensation in the magical world, needing to know when someone planned to take out or “give a lesson to” the Chester who didn’t belong.
A male of medium height and build walked down the side of the hall toward them. He held ancient-looking scrolls with tattered edges, rolled up and shielded protectively within his arms. His jacket was a fine thing, with gold embroidery on deep green fabric layered in places with red edging. Loose pants in fine silk flowed down his legs, ending in pointed slippers of velvet. She couldn’t tell if any of these materials were the same as in the human realm, but they were something similar.