Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“Stars.”
I dropped down at the edge of the bank. Small, glowing, impossible flowers brushed against my knees—their long, delicate petals so featherlight, I barely felt them. They almost resembled sun flowers, though their petals were as long as their stems.
“Starflowers,” I whispered, touching one ever so lightly. Pulling away, I gasped, wondering at my glowing fingertips.
Their gentle light emanated from seeds to stem, and carried down into the roots—making the bank shine. Was this the work of magic, or were these beautiful things made this way by the goddess herself?
Sitting back on my heels, I swept the calm, still clearing.
The trees curved around the river and reached for each other overhead, their branches stretching, reaching, tangling into a natural roof that blocked the falling snow. It was a quiet, pocket world outside of time—outside of war, harm, and the dangers of the night. I don’t know how, but I knew the Taken wouldn’t come here. Such a place was too beautiful for the likes of a beast.
I lit on something to my right, rising at the edge of the clearing.
A bridge.
Carefully, I ripped the hem of my cloak and used the cloth to gather up a handful of starflowers. “Goodbye,” I whispered.
Holding out my natural lantern, I crossed the bridge and stepped onto a path.
I was torn. Wouldn’t Alisdair search for me along the routes that he knew—like this very path? Or did I heed sense, and stay on a path that clearly led somewhere, instead of wandering through the dark and night until I tipped over the cliff into that nest of Taken?
My mind was made for me. Lifting my feet, I stayed on the path.
Where is he? Have I truly lost him? The most feared man in Elva— No, in all of Elvan history, and he couldn’t track down one sniveling, insipid, pampered princess who was lost in the woods.
I couldn’t help but smirk.
A shadow jumped out of the trees. “Ahh!” I flung back, landing hard on my tailbone, and harder still when it landed on my chest—shoving me down. We blinked at each other.
Curious, the rabbit sniffed me—its twitching, little nose tickling my cheek. Was it not used to people, or was it not used to normal fae? It certainly inspected me like I was a new and interesting discovery, and wanted to know if I was edible.
“Hello to you too,” I said softly. Gently, I stroked his soft, fuzzy head—almost smiling when I heard his sweet, grinding purr. “Would you like to come with me? I’m in search of a place to hide from a monster.”
Wings sprouted from his back, trapping another surprised cry behind my teeth. He took off, shooting into the air.
I held up my starflowers to follow him and came eye to eye to eye with a herd of white and gray rabbits, all gazing down at me from the trees. My new friend was clearly the brave one—putting himself forward to check if I was a threat.
He dropped down on a branch, chittered to his friends, then took to the skies—leading his colony away.
I gasped at the sight—eyes wider than they’d ever been. “What is this place?”
A soft, scratching sound tickled my ear, wiping my smile away. Was it the Taken? Another impossible creature? Or him?
I paused—scanning the limits of my starflower-light. I grew up in the city. A city surrounded by forest, yes, but a forest Mama forbade me to step foot in alone.
The forests of Elva were tricky, living, magical, mischievous. They liked to obscure paths, confuse travelers, and mimic the voices of desperate, calling loved ones. Many a young fae entered the forest and never returned.
But not this place.
I could feel it. Sense it within the well of magic inside my soul that was forever out of my reach. There was no magic or mischief in this forest. It was dead.
Which meant that noise was not a trick to scare me. Something or someone made it, and I needed to move.
I hurried on—bursting into a near run. The flowers lit my way, illuminating tufts of fur and flashes of feathers as critters fled from the strange, charging giant clomping through the woods. Something appeared ahead of me and I pulled up short, skidding to the edge of the cliff.
Heart in my throat, I peered down. No, not a cliff.
It was another sharply inclined path like that one that carried our carriage down into Lumenfell, but this one led to—
I frowned. “What is that?”
I held the flowers higher, squinting to see. About eighty feet below, something—many somethings?—shifted in the dark. A soft, humming noise lifted up on the backs of the howling wind, and furrowed my brow. It almost sounded like... snoring.
Shuffling sounded behind me, turning me in time to see another tuft of fur flit into the dark.
I smiled. “Come now, little one. There’s no need to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”