Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
We pass travellers, children selling tea from the garden of their home, villages, and even one caravan of goods from someplace called Trymet. We pass a narrow river shackled by ice chiming at regular intervals, and even an old statue whose face has long crumbled off. Tristan doesn’t know whom it depicts, likely some local heroine who’s been forgotten and is no longer an object of reverence.
My knight is taking me farther from the only passage to the human realm I know, but that was my wish, so I let myself observe the realities of my temporary home. There’s a terrible grandeur to the world around me, a wilderness full of animals with sharp teeth and elves with even sharper knives, but nobody dares stand in Tristan’s way. In the long hour before the moon sinks beyond the horizon, the wilderness seems suspended in its most primal state, but even then I know there’s nothing to fear.
Once it’s completely dark, we travel with lanterns attached to the front of the kelpie. While Tristan has his arm around me at all times, I can tell he remains alert. I am so easily startled after my ordeal, and whenever I flinch, scared by noises coming from the dense, leafless bushes, he tightens his grip on me, soothing the anxiety crawling under my skin.
In the past weeks, I was conditioned to worry about every sound in the dark, since it could always be a prelude to torment. I wish I didn’t depend on Tristan the way I do right now, but I can’t escape reality. I’ve never been as skinny, and being so small in an oppressive world isn’t helping my confidence. If something attacked us, I couldn’t even run away.
Tristan is all that stands between me and death—that’s no exaggeration. He doesn’t need to know how much I depend on him, how many times I dreamed of him saving me from Gloombane’s clutches.
The light doesn’t reach very far, so when a man in heavy black armor emerges in the middle of our path, I stiffen in sudden terror. But Tristan’s calm as ever. As the kelpie slows, I notice a tall metal gate. I’m glad to be tucked into the furs so that only the upper half of my face remains visible. I don’t want to be noticed.
“It’s me, Théo,” Tristan says. “Don’t alert anyone. It’s late, I can handle Stone at the stables myself.”
“Ser Tristan,” the man says and walks off after a curt bow. Soon enough, the gate stands open, and Tristan nudges Stone into a slow gait. I blink and strain my eyes, only now realizing there’s a greenish softness to the darkness, almost as if there are fireflies floating ahead, but my eyes, weak even for a human, can’t spot anything beyond that.
“Are we… there?”
“Yes. I thought you were sleeping. We’ve arrived at the castle,” he says and soon enough, the kelpie’s hooves hit smooth cobblestones. “We need to go see the Lord before we get you settled. I’m sorry, but it can’t wait if you are to rest. And… Nate, it will be better to not tell him much about your plan to break our bond. He is very much smitten with his Dark Companion and married to him, so he will not appreciate any ideas about such things.”
I don’t want to see anyone. Just rest. On my own. But I suppose there’s nothing I can do to avoid the questioning to come. “You want me to lie?”
“Just don’t mention your plans. I assure you, there is no place more equipped in resources to find the unicorn. My sister is in charge of the grandest library you’ve ever seen, and we have connections with many knowledgeable elves. The Lord doesn’t need to know what we’re really looking for.”
I instantly suspect trickery, but arguing isn’t going to help with my situation. We arrive at a courtyard where the green torches let me see a bit more clearly. Going by the smell of hay and horses alone, I’m assuming we’re by the stables. The walls around us are high and sturdy, but the building ahead appears more refined.
I can still hardly see all of the castle, as it shoots so far up into the dark sky my poor vision blurs the highest of its towers. I’ll either exert my will here, find a unicorn, and prove that even with my shadow so worthless, I can do what no elf has, or this monstrous place will swallow me whole and spit out my bones.
I’m now so light he takes me off Stone’s back with the ease I would pick up a cat, but while standing on my own is a struggle, Tristan offers me his arm for support. It’s so muscular, so steady I have to hold in a sob of frustration, because of course I need his help. If it wasn’t for him, Gloombane would have likely tortured me to death. But without Tristan he also would have never gotten his hands on me in the first place, so maybe my gratitude is misplaced?