Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
The dursan raised its head.
This was it. This was how it would all end.
The beast flexed its wings. I watched it strike in slow motion. It raised its shoulders, it leaned forward, its mouth gaped . . .
A wall of green flames severed it in half, stopping just a foot from me. I froze on instinct, unable to even breathe.
The dursan split in two, bisected. The two halves of it fell apart, toppled over the low rails, and fell into the gap below.
Ramond stood on the bridge, sheathed in black smoke, his sword spilling green flames. Blood spattered his face and armor.
His Fatefire died.
He started toward me.
I ran to him.
We collided halfway, and he hugged me to him, gripping me tight, as if afraid I would break apart in his hands if he couldn’t hold on to me. The black smoke coiled around me like armor.
Ramond kissed me, his lips searing hot, and hugged me to him again, breathless, his eyes shining. “Made it this time.”
I hugged him and didn’t want to let go.
EPILOGUE
I stood on the wall of our house, wrapped in a shawl against the night chill. I’d never appreciated shawls until I came to Rellas. They were soft, warm, and comfy. A hoodie would’ve been better, but shawls held their own.
All three moons were out, and the river surface glowed slightly, reflecting their light, like polished black glass. The sound of celebration came floating up from our kitchen. Matheo and the Sun Margrave had survived. We had stopped a disaster from coming. Hreban was behind bars and Silveren was hopefully dead. The future had to change this time. It had to.
I had told Shana that we should celebrate while we could.
Kair Toren was celebrating as well. Sauven had opened the royal cellars to commemorate the new victory. Tonight would be a night of free ale and mead, courtesy of the Eagle Roost. The population was disturbed, and this would go a long way to calming things down. The Savarics had sat on the throne for over three hundred years. They knew how to keep it.
I had tried to enjoy our little feast, but at some point, it became too much, so I excused myself, grabbed my lantern, and came out on the wall for a few minutes of quiet.
I missed Ramond.
It was the worst feeling. I knew better than to trust him, but I wanted him here with me. I’d had to let go of him on that bridge because the fight was still raging. He had gone back into the slaughter, and I had run to the tower and stayed there, until the last of the battle died down and the people of the Justice Chamber came to fetch us. They took me, the Magnars, and Matheo to our house.
Later in the day, Avaria delivered a message from the Shears. Solentine and Rumian were fine. The dursans were dead, order was restored, and Silveren’s body had disappeared.
That last one sent a shiver down my spine every time I thought about it. I had stabbed him at least four times. Surely he was dead.
Someone ran up the steps. I turned and saw Matheo. He was tall for fifteen, but still slender rather than lean. His face had traces of Reynald’s hard features, but his expression was completely different. His light eyes were bright and hopeful.
He grinned at me. It was a beautiful contagious smile, and I grinned back.
“I found you,” he said.
“You did.”
He came to lean on the wall next to me.
“When did you first start keeping an eye on me?” I asked.
“About five weeks ago. Up until then, I mostly saw Ulmar Hreban. I didn’t know why. I can’t always control my visions. Sometimes they come unbidden.”
“Like sparks from a fire.” That’s how he had described it in the books.
“Yes, like that. The spark glows, and I catch a glimpse. Sometimes I see what I am seeking. Sometimes I see something different. I saw my father die.”
Oh.
“I saw Hreban cutting off someone’s hands. I think he was a thief. I saw Lord Everard riding. And then I started seeing you. At first only hints, then more and more.”
“I did my best,” I told him. “I am sorry I wasn’t in time to help your father.”
“It’s not your fault. You weren’t here. You saved me instead. He would be grateful.”
Matheo unsheathed his sword and showed it to me. He carried Reynald’s blade.
“When did you get this?”
“His Grace left it with the Sun Margrave. There was a note with it. It said that my father carried this sword with honor, and I had to strive to be worthy of it. I carried it with me into that battle. It tasted dursan blood.”
He smiled at me.
Fifteen-year-olds. They thought they were immortal.
“I think my father would be proud.”
“He would be. You didn’t run. You performed your duty with honor. What will you do now, Matheo?”