Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Now that I understand how much he longs for a partner—for someone he’d want to share the bond with—I hate the idea of manipulating that yearning for my own ends. Hate it so much that when he left me behind in the library, I asked Blake to point me toward references about portals and portal magic. One way or the other, I need to find the portal, but if I find it on my own, I might be able to live with myself when this is all over.
I might not have the kind of power to create a portal, but I know enough about them to understand that a portal leading to a series of other portals would have to affect the environment. By the time I’d gathered the books and dug into the first in the stack, my handmaid informed me that Misha was waiting at the stables.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Misha asks.
I glance toward him and force a tentative smile. “I’m wondering who exactly lives out here?”
“Gaelynn, Jewel of Peace,” he says, casting a glance my way. “Having issues with your memory today?”
“I mean how does she live out here when there’s nothing else around? What does she eat? You said she’s one of your elders, but does she still hunt for her own food? Who does she talk to? Does she do more than wait for someone to come seek her counsel? Does she guard the secrets of your court?”
According to the first book I found, very powerful portals can create a sort of magical vacuum, as happened in the Unseelie Court with a portal to the Underworld. In that case, the whole area became what is now known as the Silent Ridge, a mountainous area where the only magic that works is the portal itself. As a result, the fae avoid spending any significant amount of time in the area, and none live there.
The book said, however, that magical vacuums are rare, that often the most powerful portals simply give off an energy that dissuades people from lingering near them. These mountains are so remote that I can’t help but wonder if we’re coming onto something similar.
Misha chuckles. “So many questions.”
I sigh. “Sorry. Never mind.”
“No. It’s good. Ask your questions.” The incline turns steep, and Misha spurs his horse forward. “The Jewel has a group of priestesses who stay with her in her sanctuary. They provide her with anything she needs that magic can’t supply.”
I wait for him to answer the rest of my questions. Even if he denied the Jewel is guarding something, I would likely be able to detect the lie.
He flashes me a look over his shoulder. “Don’t like being this far away from everything?”
I love it. I’m social by nature and prefer being around others, so I don’t know that I’d want to be this isolated, but it might be worth it to see this kind of beauty every day. The leaves are changing, and every so often we reach a vista that allows us a view of the valley below—a stretch of green, yellow, russet, orange, and red dappled throughout the trees so they look like an artist’s palette smudged together.
I hesitate before responding, measuring my words against what I think Jas would say. “Perhaps I envy her,” I finally answer. “She doesn’t have to worry about people bothering her when she just wants to be left alone.”
He grunts. “Everyone has responsibilities, Princess. While they can seem heavy and burdensome, if you give it a try, you might find you’re happier with the burden than without.”
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s egotistical to assume you know what’s best for everyone?”
“No.” He shifts to the side in his saddle, leaning toward me, and whispers, “They told me to be king.”
I snort. “So pompous.”
“Don’t mistake wisdom for arrogance.”
“And what makes you so wise?”
He laughs softly. “A very, very long life, for starters.”
“In other words, you’re old?”
He winks at me, then nods ahead. “There it is,” he says, and I see it. Just barely peeking out of the trees ahead, a white stone steeple, softly glowing as if it might be made of clouds backlit by sunshine.
Misha spurs his horse on, as if anxious to get there now that we’re close, and I hurry my horse to keep up, my breath catching as the full sanctuary comes into view. It’s not overly large, but it is beautiful—all that glowing white stone, with the steeple in the center and two turrets on either side, the entire structure surrounded by fluffy white hydrangeas and fluttering butterflies.
A boy is waiting at the steps and when Misha dismounts, he hands the boy the reins to his horse before turning to me, arms lifted.
My heart races and feels too big for my chest at the thought of him helping me off my horse, so I ignore him as I imagine Jas might. I throw one leg over and lower myself down as gracefully as possible.