Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
His wings are feathered and full. And he’s glowing a golden yellow color. It’s coming from every bit of him. Inside him, even. He is… a god.
No. The God. The god of gods. The glory of gods.
“You’re the Glory,” I croak.
And he looks sad even as he forces a smile. “You’re OK,” he says again.
But when you’re in the middle of a hallucinogenic nightmare and people start insisting you’re OK, you are decidedly not OK.
“Do you know why they had the Glory War?” It’s Tarq again. We’re standing in front of one of his doors. And we see the other side too. It’s a little forest village filled with pure-blood wood nymphs. And there is a mound of wood mud being attended to.
“Why?” I ask, looking back at Tarq.
“Because gods on the loose.”
I can’t tell if he means gods plural are on the loose or one particular god is on the loose. But then again, it’s always about the same fucking god on the loose, isn’t it?
“The god of gods showed up”—Tarq is still talking—“and everyone had to take a side. With him. Or against him.”
“Which side are we on?”
He laughs. “We don’t take sides, Nysta. We make our own side.” He nods his head to the door. “Are you ready?”
Nysta does not feel ready. My heart—her heart—is pounding to the beat of my head. Just thumping, and thumping, and thumping.
“But what good is it?” I hear myself say in Nysta’s voice. “Why bother with all this when we don’t have the final ingredient?”
“I can get the bloodhorn, Nysta. I told you that.”
“How?” Nysta does not believe him. I can feel it in her bones.
“You let me worry about that. Now, I need you to concentrate. Think about your story. The plan. And how to get them all back through the door.”
She is luring the wood nymphs through the doors and giving them to Tarq so he can run his experiments. His science. Because he is obsessed with doors the same way I’m obsessed with dragons.
And the moment I think this word, I’m back where I started. Madeline, the dragon the color of bloodhorn. And that’s why I need a scale.
Tarq isn’t the only one doing science in Vinca.
Oh, it’s not me. Queen Callistina couldn’t do magic if her life depended on it.
But the alchemist, Lyrica, can.
And this is when it starts to make sense.
Not what I did. I had my reasons and they were selfish, and small, and mean.
But what they did.
And how they used me.
And how I let them.
And how everything I ever thought I knew is a lie.
It’s about science.
It’s about creation.
It’s about power.
I did not mix a potion in that quicksilver bottle, I mixed a drug. That’s the human word for it.
I am not using magic, I’m using chemistry.
All the romantic stories about the gods are false. Lies. A fiction told to the masses, but to what end? Captivate them? Scare them? Humble them?
All of the above, most likely.
Because this world, and all the sister worlds through every door imaginable, runs on power.
And power runs on time.
And don’t we all want more time?
“Callistina? Can you hear me?”
“I don’t want the time.”
“Callistina?” Eros’s voice is filled with hope. “Wake up! Can you wake up?”
I don’t want to wake up.
“Just open your eyes, just once. I can fix this. I can.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I do know it’s got nothing to do with everything I just saw. It’s got nothing to do with the truth.
But I open my eyes anyway because he’s pretty. He’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and I could use a little beauty right now.
His eyes are gold and green. Glowing, like his body. And the very moment I see them, I feel… love. For him, but also from him.
It washes over me and finally—finally—the thunder, and lightning, and earthquakes happening inside my pounding head… stop.
And then I wake up.
I just lie still, looking up at a canopy of trees. The bright sun flickers back and forth through the trembling leaves, making patterns of light flash across my face. But I can’t hold it. The world is spinning. I try to get up, but strong hands push me back down.
“Just take it easy. You’ve been asleep for a long time. There’s no rush.”
A strange moaning makes me turn my head. Immediately, I regret it. Because the pounding is back and I have to close my eyes to make the spinning stop.
I don’t know how long I lie there like that, but it might be a while. Because when I open my eyes again, I can see Eros across a little clearing in the woods. He’s bent over Ire, who is lying on the ground. The source of the moaning.
“What’s wrong with him?” I croak.
My voice startles Eros, and he turns, still glowing and flanked on either side with a set of massive, gorgeous, feathered wings that make him look every bit like a god.