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)
She found the root like it had a big arrow pointing at it. A mass of gross, twisted magic surged and sparked and melted the surrounding air, wrong in every way. She couldn’t tell if it was a fae or a beast, an individual or eight. She applied the chalice magic like a candle snuffer cutting out the oxygen to a flame.
The rot around them spun and twisted but eventually withered away, evaporating back into the framework whence it came. Another magic waited, though. Around the corner, skulking in the shadows. A vile magic from something that didn’t register as fae. Not anymore. She really got now why they referred to magic gone wrong as twisted…
It was wrong for this place. It was a sore on the healthy body that was Faerie.
She didn’t snuff that one. It would be wrong to allow that creature to continue plaguing this realm. No, she stole from it. Yanked its magic away like a toddler stealing her brother’s last piece of candy. She took it, and she chewed it up and swallowed it before the original holder could get it back.
They heard a cry of abject terror and then rage, followed by a strange growling. Footsteps in the distance were cut short, and something heavy hit the ground and sounded like it tumbled. One of the Fallen took off in that direction, followed by a couple more. She didn’t have to see it to know; she could feel it. She could feel them, their magic weaving within the flow of Faerie. It was…incredible. Beautiful.
All lay still and quiet around her except for heavy breathing, everyone trying to catch their breath. She gradually opened her eyes, wanting to stay in that magical headspace a while longer but knowing this was not the place, now was not the time, and her body was crying for more healing and a bed.
Everyone was facing her, swords down, staring. Their expressions were hard but blank, giving nothing away.
She lifted her eyebrows as she put her knife away. “What?”
Tarian
Tarian stared at Daisy for much too long, dumbfounded, playing everything that had happened in his head again. Strangely, none of his Fallen reacted, either. Everyone stared at the human who had just rooted out and extinguished Faerie magic as though born in this place. As though born to this magic.
Are you sure she’s human? Gorlan asked, his voice holding awe. She figured that out all on her own. She accomplished it like she’s been doing it all her life.
A surge of pride gushed through Tarian, so unexpected that he staggered.
Yes, she was human. Yes, she was new to magic. To all of this. Yes, she was a genius who was good in a pinch and a valuable member of this team. She’d always shown she could be, and now she’d proven she would be. She’d help them win. If anyone could—if any human in all the realms could see them to the finish—it was this precious, beautiful little creature.
“Seriously, what?” Daisy cocked her hip in that way that said everyone was an idiot.
He was too shocked, too numb, too…full of pride, maybe, to laugh or smile.
Instead, he put away his sword before he scooped her up into his arms and held her tightly to his chest. His heart throbbed from the closeness. His body tightened with need. To feel her more thoroughly against him. He’d never wanted anyone so badly in all his life, and with each passing day, instead of that feeling waning, it grew stronger. More solid. Un-fucking-breakable.
“Nothing,” he said.
How could you put all that into words? Any of this into words? She’d figured out a complex magical lesson…with a couple of shallow hints from his crew. That was…
He started to laugh.
Eldric was correct. She would be fit for the scribes. Mentally, anyway. She wouldn’t open the gates for a rush of more humans to follow, though. There weren’t many like her. She was proving to be truly exceptional.
As usual, she took his silence for some kind of answer. Her brain kept spinning in that dizzying way it did.
His body is tense, she observed. Always observing. His jacket is cut and slashed in a dozen places. Blood is welling up in a few of those places, but all his limbs are still attached. His wounds aren’t what is troubling him.
“But seriously, what?” she demanded again. “I did it, right? I did the job. I’m not great at it, or fast, but I did it. That’s something. Right?”
He could feel the insecurity in her mind. Had to clench his jaw to stop from gushing all over her. Even now there might be eyes on them. He was already being too obvious in his partiality. Showing his intense and deepening feelings would surely result in the royals taking her and tormenting her in front of him. He couldn’t bear that. He wouldn’t live through it, because he’d kill as many of the palace residents as he possibly could before they brought him down. If they harmed her, he’d lay waste to this place. He’d sacrifice his duty to claim vengeance on her behalf. No hesitation. No remorse.