Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“That’s not an answer.”
“Because I know that your father wasn’t just a clockmaker. And I think you know too.”
Clover shivered at those words. She turned slowly and met her gaze. “How do you know?”
“He showed me the amulets he was working on,” Thea said carefully. “Small metal discs with ancient Fae etched into them. Do you know what his aim for the amulets were?”
She shook her head. Her stomach knotted. She’d blocked it out. Her dad had made clocks. He hadn’t made anything else.
“Do you know the reason he was killed?”
“Stop,” she said, clutching her stomach. “I can’t talk about this.”
“Clover,” Thea said gently. “You know the truth.”
“He wanted a way for humans and half-Fae to get magic,” Clover whispered.
The memory of that day came to her in a flash. Her father in his shop as he chiseled away at the necklace that lay against her chest. The words he’d spoken to it that snaked around like a lullaby. The way to open the Tendrille to be able to access magic, even for a person without any magic at all. The magic was from outside rather than within. A dangerous dream in a world that already detested half-Fae and humans alike.
“Yes,” Thea said.
“But he never finished it,” Clover said, her hand going to the necklace.
“And they killed him for it. Killed everyone for it.”
“Yes,” Clover said, near to tears at the words.
“What if I told you that I’ve had people trying to finish his invention?” Thea asked in a whisper.
“No,” Clover said. “You’ll all be killed, just like him.”
“No one will ever know. It’s utterly secret. But if we had your help, we could get so much farther.”
“My help? Why?”
“You were there. You have his last amulet. If we could unlock the secrets of it—”
“No,” Clover said sharply, backing up. “There are no secrets in my necklace. I want no part in this.”
“This might be the only way to save our people, Clover.”
“Then, find another way,” she shot back and dashed out of the gazebo.
Her hands were still shaking as she raced back into the ballroom. Hadrian’s arms came around her.
“I was looking all over for you. You’re shaking. Is everything all right?”
“Fine,” she lied and let him hold her close. “Just got turned around.”
“Okay,” he said uncertainly.
But Clover couldn’t divulge the truth. Not to him or anyone. And Thea was better off, letting this be buried with the dead.
27
THE JOURNEY
Tieran carried Kerrigan back to the mountain, but he’d been half-tempted to leave her behind. You’re reckless and infuriating, he growled.
“I know,” she said weakly.
She could barely keep her head up. The magic drain hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t anticipated that. She was practically empty, and still, somehow, it was as if the casting were spooling out beyond her, pulling more and more magic from her reserves.
Are you even going to tell me what you did to make you like this? he demanded.
She had nearly told him right away, but she had been worried that he’d leave her behind. She promised not to do this without him. She promised not to do it until the full moon. She promised a lot of things. But as usual, she’d recklessly gone ahead with her own plan.
One day, she was going to have to think with her head and not her heart. Yet she couldn’t regret it. Not if it saved Fordham’s life.
“When we get to the mountain,” she said and then lay her head on Tieran’s scaled back. She closed her eyes, sinking toward oblivion as they made the quick flight into the aerie.
He landed heavily inside a few minutes later, and she groaned as she slid off of his back.
Talk, he said stiffly.
So, she told him. She told him everything. From March to Dozan to Fordham. The tangled web she had with the men in her life and the visions that she’d seen.
Tieran went from irritated to furious in a split second. You did this without me? That was dangerous!
“I know. I know all of this already. But we have to go. We have to save Fordham.”
Did you hear anything Cleora said? Visions are not linear, and they’re dangerous for the people who try to interpret them. How can you think that you would be able to interpret it when no one else can?
“He was dead,” she said. “A knife in his chest, bleeding out in the snow. I think it was pretty easy to interpret.”
It could mean anything. It could be a trick, Tieran berated. Leaving now would be detrimental to you. We have no idea.
“So, you won’t help me? You’ll leave Fordham and Netta to die?”
Tieran paused over those words, as if he’d forgotten that Fordham was bound to Netta and that if Fordham died, so would his dragon. Another big loss for him.
You are insufferable.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Fine. We’ll go. But we are going to be very cautious.