Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
“What did it show you?” I ask, frowning.
He shakes his head.
“Never mind, sweetheart. You don’t need to know.”
I have a feeling that I do need to know, but the Sorceress is already answering him.
“Remember that not everything the Door shows comes to pass,” she tells him. “Sometimes it shows false images…or things that may happen in the future.”
“I don’t want anything it showed me to happen, though!” Valen insists. “How do I stop it?”
A regretful look comes over her lovely face.
“No man may stop the wheel of time from turning, Master Drake. But do not let your heart be troubled—hopefully what the Door showed you was false.”
“What did you see?” I ask him again. “Did it have to do with me?”
It must have—why else would he have grabbed me like that when he first came out of the Door?
Valen gets a stubborn look on his face.
“I don’t want to scare you.”
“I’m not scared!” I protest.
He opens his mouth—I hope to tell me what he saw—but the Lady of Thornmere interrupts us.
“My dear, if you want to brew the Healing Draught for your mother, we must work quickly. You must tell me all the Door showed you so that we may interpret it and see best how to distill your magic.”
“Oh—of course,” I say. Whatever Valen saw will have to wait, I suppose.
“Very good. Now come with me and we’ll discuss what you were shown.”
She takes me by the hand and leads me to an alcove in the back of the workroom that I hadn’t noticed before. There are several padded chairs here, gathered around what appears to be a magical potbellied stove. There is a fire inside it but no smokestack. In fact, the fire—which gives off a flickering blue glow—doesn’t seem to make any smoke at all.
Despite the absence of smoke, the stove gives off soothing warmth and sitting on top of it is a tea pot. The pot already has water in it, and I see that the “tea” it’s brewing is actually a huge pink flower with many tiny petals blooming in the hot water.
The Sorceress pours us all cups of pale pink tea which smells like honeysuckle and spice and then we all settle into the chairs.
“Now then, my dear,” she says to me. “Tell me what the Door showed you and we’ll be able to tell how to proceed.”
“Oh, well, the first vision was just of my father and brother in our dining hall,” I begin. I tell her about my brother serving as Cup Bearer to both our parents and she frowned and nods thoughtfully.
“I see, so it showed you a scene from your past. All right—go on. What else did it show you?”
“Um…” I don’t want to tell about the second vision, so I skip to the third. “It showed me the night that Valen and I ran away from the castle,” I say. “At least, I think it did—it was the same place and around the same time of evening.”
“So it only showed you things that already happened?” Valen asks, frowning.
“Er…not exactly.” I can feel my cheeks getting hot. Goddess, I really don’t want to describe the second vision the Door showed me. It’s so embarrassing!
“Go on, my dear,” the Sorceress says gently. “I must know all of what the Door revealed to you in order to help you with your magic.”
I don’t want to tell, but it seems I have no choice. Better to get it over quickly, I decide.
“I…it…it showed me—on a kind of pedestal,” I say, looking down at my hands as I speak. “I…I was naked. On my hands and knees.”
To my right, Valen makes an interested sound around his teacup as he takes another sip of the pale pink tea.
The Lady of Thornmere says nothing but, “Go on.”
“I saw something in the shadows,” I say, trying to think how to phrase it. “And when it came into the light I saw it was…it was Valen’s Drake.”
Oh Goddess, my face is so hot it’s amazing my hair hasn’t caught on fire and I haven’t even said the worst part yet!
“Go on,” the Sorceress says again. “What happened next?”
“He…the Drake…he got behind me and he…he…” I just can’t force the words out—I can’t!
“He bred you—mated with you.” Valen’s voice is a deep rumble and I’m both grateful to him for finishing my sentence and irritated that he knew how it would end.
“Yes,” I say shortly, still staring at my fingers, which are twisting in the silky fabric of the pale green gown the magical wardrobe offered me this morning. “But…there was something else,” I add.
“What might that be, my dear?” The Sorceress doesn’t sound shocked or appalled, as I had feared and when I dare to look up at her, her face is serene.
“The Drake…when he was, er, finished…he looked at me and I saw Valen’s face instead,” I say.