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)
Bastian went still for a moment. “You went to a rally? Kerrigan, that is very dangerous. We spoke many times about your recklessness. I support your nomination, but I don’t want you to be killed.”
“It was a long time ago,” she lied. “I … I didn’t mention it until I read this.”
“And did you touch the Collector?”
Kerrigan froze at those words. Not the question itself, but the way it had been asked. She had never heard Bastian speak like that. The cadence of his voice was different and yet familiar. And there was almost … eagerness in his voice, which made no sense. Did he want the Collector for himself?
“I didn’t,” she assured him. “I’m not that reckless.”
The look in his eyes vanished. “Good. That’s good. And do you know where this Collector is? It belongs in the vault, away from the hands of those undeserving of its power.”
“No,” she said, glad she could tell the truth here. “I’ve no idea, and I don’t think it’s safe for me to go to another rally.”
Bastian put a hand on her shoulder. “I agree. I’ll have the Guard on high alert. Don’t worry about it anymore.”
Kerrigan nodded even though she had no intention of doing so. That Collector was the key to finding out who was the leader of the Red Masks. She would stop at nothing to get it. And she trusted the Guard even less to be on her side.
“Have you seen or heard of any other magical artifacts in the city?” Bastian asked.
She hesitated for a moment. The Ring of Endings dangled between her breasts. She could tell him about it, but something kept her from doing so. She slowly shook her head.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. But there are so many still unaccounted for,” she said, gesturing to the book in her bag. “How do we know what our enemies will use against us when the time comes?”
“We prepare as best that we can. The rest we leave to our training. It is not as if someone is going to locate the Stone of Fire, the Jackal, or Ring of Endings anytime soon, Kerrigan. The worst we’ve seen is the Deafener, and we collected that after the Battle of Lethbridge.”
Kerrigan flinched at the name of the Ring of Endings but hoped that it looked as if she feared the Deafener. It was an amber orb that, when activated by an ancient Fae, would incapacitate everyone in the vicinity. Basem Nix had used it against her, and they had seen it again at Lethbridge. She was glad it was out of enemy hands.
“What if someone did find the Ring of Endings?” she asked softly.
Bastian’s eyes lit up at the name. A covetous look. “Then, we would all be in much more trouble than any of us ever knew.”
She swallowed and nodded. Yeah, best not to tell him she had found it.
She said her good-byes and then headed back up through the mountain to her rooms. She was stopped no less than a dozen times as she made her way. By the time she was inside, she put her back to the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Gods,” she groaned.
“Busy day?” a voice asked.
She jumped in shock and then whirled to find Prescott stepping out of her study. He was as handsome as ever, wearing House of Shadows black-and-silver silk. Dressed so like his cousin, almost a matching set. Though she could see all the differences.
“What in the gods’ names are you doing here?” she demanded.
“My apologies. I didn’t intend to frighten you. Benton allowed me inside earlier when I refused to leave this letter with her.” He produced a cream envelope from his pocket.
Arbor and Prescott had been making overtures since her return to get back into her good graces. She hadn’t lied when she told them both that she was too busy. It was above and beyond for Prescott to be sent here like this.
“There have been a great many people attempting to get into my living quarters,” she told him. “Few I like as much as you.”
He shot her a charming smile. She could see how he and Arbor had kept their places at court so easily. Attractive, affable, and charming should be enough for anyone. It was too bad that he was not his cousin at all.
“I like to hear that,” he said, stepping toward her and offering her the letter. “I like less the news that I bring you.”
She opened the letter and read the short note in Fordham’s quick, efficient hand rather than his calligraphic scrawl she knew all too well. Her heart fluttered at the words to his cousins, as if he were standing beside her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
“He’s … not returning,” she said uncertainly.
Of course she knew that the letter was a fabrication, but she didn’t let that show in her face.