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)
I simply blink at him. I’m not sure what else to do. I just sit, finding myself at a loss for words.
“Callistina? Did you hear me?”
I nod my head. “It’s all gone now?”
“Yes. She bled you dry and then—”
“Who? Who is this ‘she?’”
“Pressia. I’m like ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent sure it was her. Who else? Who else would be using magic like that?”
Tarq and Nysta come to mind. But though I have been seeing them in my nightmares, or delusions, or whatever the mechanism is, they don’t seem to be a part of this story. And Tarq is dead. Isn’t he? “Wait,” I say. “You said we went back in time.”
“Right. To the moments right after your antlers and Ire’s wings were taken.”
“Back in time. Why would the ordered list start with the future and work its way back?” What I’m really trying to decide, but don’t say out loud, is whether or not Tarq could be alive in this ‘when.’ Could he have done this?
I’m grasping at anything and anyone but this Pressia woman, because why the hell is she so bitter? What could Eros have done to her to warrant this kind of fatal attraction? I mean, give it a rest, lady. Let it go. She must be insane.
“I don’t know,” Eros says, answering my rhetorical question. “Who can explain anything in this curse addendum we seem to be caught up in?”
I exhale loudly. “Who indeed.”
“I just wanted you to know that we’ve been here a long time. You’re recovered now. Ire is recovered. We need to leave.”
“But we can’t take him with us through a door.”
“He’ll be fine, Callistina. And besides, he seems to show up anyway.”
“That’s true. Odd, but true. Because he’s an integral part of this story.”
“Makes sense, though.”
I squint my eyes at Eros. “How do you figure?”
“Because she needed him and you. To do whatever spell she was doing. Feathers and bloodhorn.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, and I’m not either, but what more is there to say about it? It makes perfect sense, I’m just not convinced.
“So. What do ya think?” Eros stands up. “You ready to hit the road?”
I point to the ground. “Right now?” I look around at the darkening forest. “The sun is setting. It’s not really the proper time—”
“I’ve got everything ready. I’ve got all the ingredients.” As he’s saying this he’s walking towards the corner of the small cabin, where he plucks a giant nut from a shelf. It’s been cut in half and he removes the top, releasing a stench that quickly fills the room. “I’ve been fermenting acetic acid for two months now. It’ll work.” Then he picks up two pouches. “And I’ve gathered the goldberry and sharptongue. We can get by without a bottle. My spelling is perfect this time, I swear.”
“Well, you have it all figured out, don’t you?”
He brings his magiceuticals over to where I’m sitting and sets them down on the table. “I’m sorry. I know you just woke up, but I really, really think we need to get the fuck out of here ASAP.”
I feel the need to object. Forcefully. But there’s no good reason to other than I just don’t want to. Also, he’s starting to make me nervous. I feel quite content, actually. I don’t feel any sense of danger, but he certainly does. Which puts me at odds with my instincts.
Eros crouches down in front of me, reaching for my hands. He takes them both in his and we lock eyes, saying nothing for a moment. Just looking at each other.
“Callistina,” he finally says. “Listen. Something is terribly wrong here.”
This is when I realize he’s truly afraid of something. I can feel it in the way he grips my hands. I can see it hiding behind those unnaturally green eyes of his. He’s afraid. But of what?
“Something is terribly wrong and I think we need to get back to our world as soon as possible.”
“But what is wrong? Because I don’t feel it.”
“You didn’t feel the danger in Glory Rome, either.”
He’s right. I can’t deny that. That city had a hold on me. Not sure why, but I was wrong about it. The Army of the Gods came after us. The Army of the Gods. “What in the hell are we wrapped up in?”
Eros shrugs. He wants to say he doesn’t know, but he does. He knows something.
“You know something.” I say my fear out loud. And it is a fear. Because whatever it is he knows, he’s afraid of it. And if he’s afraid of it, I should be too. “You know something,” I say again. “And I want to know what it is. Tell me and we can go home. Right now. But I want to know.”
Eros swallows hard. Like he’s steadying himself before giving me his answer. But then he sighs and I know he’s not going to tell me. He’s going to lie. “I would tell you if I knew, but I don’t.” He squeezes my hands. “I swear. I have suspicions, I have a gut feeling, I have… reservations, or whatever. But I have no information other than I want to leave and I need you to come with me. Not because of the twin doors. But because I…” He hesitates, exhaling loudly.