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)
“I don’t.” My gods. I’m smiling. I don’t remember the last time I gave an honest smile that didn’t belong to the Enchanting Lady.
Kendrick doesn’t look at her—doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Tell me how it works.”
“I put the ring on, and people do as I ask.” Do they really need to know the rest? Would they believe me if I told them about the kiss of death? “Just like I said.”
“And they remember nothing,” Remme says. He extends a hand. “Give me my shit back.”
I unsnap his leather cuffs and return them and then return the others’ things as well.
“You didn’t take anything from Kendrick?” Skylar asks.
“No.”
“Favoritism,” Remme grumbles.
“Why not?” Skylar asks.
I flick my gaze to Kendrick, then shrug. “He doesn’t follow my orders when I’m wearing the ring, and I didn’t feel like wasting time talking him into it.”
Skylar throws up her hands. “Wait, if it doesn’t work on everyone, why are we even considering this?”
Kendrick drags a hand over his face. “Because I don’t remember anything either. So even if I don’t hand over my riches, she can walk away anytime she wants or get the rest of you to turn on me. I’ll never remember a thing.”
“And he’s the only one it’s ever not worked on,” I admit. Though I still wonder about the night I saw my sister while wearing the ring. Misha and Finn were tripping over themselves like idiots, but not Brie. “It’s . . . odd.”
“Just how many people have you used this ring on?” Remme asks.
I give him a hard look. “Enough.”
Natan drags a hand through his hair. “What kind of witch did you get this from?”
I shoot him a look. “The magical kind?” I snap before looking back to Kendrick. “I can demonstrate again, but no matter how many times I do it, you won’t remember what happened or how I did it. That’s how the ring works.”
“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Kendrick says, exchanging a look with Natan. “But that’s some serious magic.”
I straighten. “You’re questioning my ring when you throw around magic all the time.” I wave a hand over myself and point to my elven ears. “Look at me. Look at you.”
“Not the same,” Natan says. He shakes his head. I’ve rarely seen this guy look even a little riled up, but right now he looks truly shaken. “My potions . . . those are surface. Even your sister’s magic over darkness and shadow is limited. But the kind of magic in this ring is affecting the subconscious of everyone you come into contact with.” He ticks his concerns off on his fingers. “Their free will, their future, their memory. The complexity of a magic like that is baffling.”
“It’s messed up,” Remme says. “You’re sure it’s not faerie magic?”
“I don’t know—are there faerie witches selling magical rings in Elora?”
“What did she want for it?” Kendrick asks.
I tear my gaze from his—as if he can see the answer in my eyes. I gave too much for this ring. Some of it was mine to give, and some of it wasn’t. I’m not proud of any of it.
“I don’t like this,” Natan says. “Whatever this is, it’s going to bite us in the ass. Mark my words.”
“We don’t know that,” Remme says. “And it would be stupid not to use the tools we have in the meantime. She can get all of us in those gates, just like that.” He snaps his fingers. “Let’s do it and fix whatever mess she got herself into later.”
“At what cost?” Natan asks.
“I agree with Remme,” Skylar says. “Let’s get in there, find the sword, and worry about the fallout later. She already has the damn thing. What’s done is done.”
I lift my gaze and find Kendrick’s eyes still on me. I don’t think he’s stopped staring since I took off the ring and was wearing their things. “What?” I ask.
“What did you give for that ring?” he asks. It’s the first time he’s sounded angry with me.
I hold his gaze and say nothing.
“She’s gonna freeze you out, brother,” Remme says, nudging him. “Maybe take this for the gift that it is.”
When Natan turns back to me, his brow is furrowed and he’s staring as if I’m a puzzle and an unexpected piece just appeared in front of him. “Let me see it.” He holds out his hand, and I withdraw, pressing my hand to my chest where I’ve tucked the ring away.
“Slayer,” Kendrick says, his voice cautious, “if we’re going to trust this ring to get us into enemy territory, I need my historian to examine it first. I promise he’ll give it right back.”
He’s right. They have no reason to trust it and every reason to want more information. Even so, my hands shake as I pass it over.