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)
Titania awaited them when they left the room, freshly dressed and ready to go. She was as stunning as ever, her golden hair spilling over one shoulder and her eyes as mercurial as ever.
“It has been a blessing to have the company. I hope you found the accommodations to your liking.” She had a twinkle in her eye that said she knew precisely how they had used her accommodations. “Your clothing and weapons will be restored to you once you exit the enchantment around my home.”
“Thank you, Titania,” Kerrigan said, dipping a low curtsy.
Fordham bowed deep. “Your generosity is greatly appreciated. May the moon light your way.”
“And the stars guide you home,” Titania said with a smile at the remembered old ways.
Fordham took Kerrigan’s hand, and together, they left the mother of the Fae behind. They followed the stone path that led away from her cottage and back through the gardens and to the palace beyond. A gentle fog suffused the grounds as they climbed the stairs that led up to the palace. The morning dew bathed the garden in beads of water. Everything was silent as they traversed the landscape that had enchanted them just the night before.
The door that they had exited last night was now ajar. The Fae dancers were all gone, and they moved through the eerily quiet ballroom on silent feet. They passed where there had once been a feast and down the pink-and-white marble hallway until they reached the front door.
Kerrigan gulped before nodding at Fordham. “Together?”
“Always.”
They put their hands on the doorknob and turned as one, pushing their way out through the barrier that no longer tried to keep them and instead spit them out on the other side.
Right into the snow.
“Gods,” Kerrigan groaned. She was at once frozen by the surroundings on the top of the highest mountain in Erewa.
Fordham laughed, patting down his pockets for all of his weapons. “Well, all seems to be right.”
She touched his face. “She didn’t give you your beard back.”
“Shall I grow it again?”
Kerrigan laughed. “Perhaps.”
“I love to see you laughing. You were so certain I was going to die that you flew all the way here to intercept me.”
“I can admit when I was wrong,” she teased as he had in Titania’s cottage.
“Oh, go ahead,” he said with satisfaction.
“Come on, princeling,” she said, stomping back out of the valley to begin their trek down the mountain. “We don’t have all day.”
“Fine. Fine,” he grumbled.
The cave where the Erewan had camped when they entered Titania’s domain was empty. The fires had long died out. They had no idea how long they had spent in her home. It felt like one night, but with ancient faerie magic, it could have been any span of time. They headed toward the cliffside, and Kerrigan stopped before it, looking dubiously downward.
She turned around to ask Fordham how they expected to get down when a flash of black shadows erupted out of nowhere.
Kerrigan screamed as Wynter, princess of the House of Shadows, appeared out of nowhere and stabbed Fordham through the chest.
33
THE AMBUSH
Kerrigan felt herself moving as if in slow motion.
The hazy dream coming back to her in perfect clarity.
She ran to Fordham, pushing her way through the snowdrifts. She felt sluggish as she raced back up the mountain. Then, she crested the last rise and found him lying there precisely as she had seen him. A dagger thrust through his chest, blood pooling all over the bright white snow, and death on his face.
Kerrigan screamed again as grief threatened to take her under. She would not fall apart here. She would not have this end.
“Wynter!” she yelled.
Wynter’s smile was deadly with triumph.
Kerrigan’s fury was worse. “Fight me if you think you can.”
She rallied all of her magic, prepared for Wynter’s next jump. She had the same dark shadow magic that ran in the Ollivier line, and she had better control of it than Fordham. Unfortunately, she had the added problem of insanity. She had gone mad with her desire to escape her own isolation. Couple that with the death of her lover, Aisling, at the Battle of Lethbridge, which had culminated in her failure, Kerrigan highly doubted she was stable.
“You coward!” Kerrigan shrieked. “You think you can do this and have it unanswered? Stand your ground if you think you deserve your throne.”
Kerrigan bared her teeth as black shadows appeared a few feet away from her, and the beautiful visage of Fordham’s mad sister materialized. Her white hair was undone from its usual braided crown. It matched the white of the snow as it was whipped about her head by the wind. She wore black fighting garb and held dual daggers.
“You think you can take me on again?” Wynter taunted.
“You won against Fordham. You had the element of surprise. You won’t beat me.”