Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Ian stared at me for a long time, his expression hard the way Huntley’s was. An entire minute passed, and he said nothing. “How long is the journey?” His eyes shifted to Bastian.
“A week there,” Bastian said. “A week back. Maybe more, depending on how much Ice we collect.”
“And if you’re caught?”
“The only distinctive feature of Necrosis is the darkness of their skin when they need to feed,” Bastian said. “There’s no reason for them to suspect she’s not one of them.”
“But they won’t recognize her either,” my brother said.
“There’re a lot of us.” Bastian held his stare. “More than you realize. I can vouch for her.”
Ian turned his attention back to me. “I still don’t like this, Elora. But your instincts have always been right. I trust your judgment.”
It was the nicest thing he’d ever said to me. “Thanks, brother.”
He brought me into his arms and gave me a hard embrace, his palm on the back of my neck the same way Huntley did. His chin rested on the top of my head, and he gave me a squeeze before he released me. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
He looked to Bastian next, and all that warmth he’d just given me disappeared. “Touch my sister and I will carve your eyes out of your face and feed them to the pigs.”
Bastian didn’t flinch at the threat.
“And if you kill me first, Huntley will take my place. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with him.”
“Your threats fall on deaf ears, but lucky for you, I mean her no harm. And she made it very clear she would kick my ass if I tried.”
We grabbed four horses and packed the saddles. One horse was tied to each of ours, so we’d have more room to pack the Ice we would harvest. I wore my riding boots and my heavy cloak to shield me from the sun and the cold. We were traveling south, where it should be a little warmer, but windstorms swept through our lands periodically.
Bastian was dressed in all black, wearing his armor and weapons. His heavy cloak hung behind him, and the hood was bunched at the nape of his neck. His short hair was combed back, and he already had a shadow on his jawline because he’d skipped the shave. He guided his horse forward by the reins then mounted him in a single fluid motion. “Ready?”
I mounted the horse beside him and gathered the reins in my hands. “Lead the way.”
He kicked his boots into the horse and took off at a run, heading east around the mountain that protected HeartHolme.
I followed behind until I caught up to him, the four horses pounding the earth with their hooves. It was early morning, the sun barely over the horizon. The sky was an array of pretty colors, and the coldness pressed right into our cheeks as we sped across the wildlands. We stopped for a short break at midafternoon, barely enough time to eat and do our business, and then we rode hard once again.
We traveled until twilight. The sky turned dark blue, and the stars blanketed the heavens. The horses couldn’t travel any farther without injury, so we stopped for the night, in a shelter of trees. We hadn’t spotted anyone on our travels, so the world felt empty except for the two of us. I unpacked my bedroll and flattened it on the ground, and then I searched for pieces of wood to make a fire.
“No fire.”
I dropped the logs onto the stones. “We didn’t see anyone.”
“Doesn’t mean they didn’t see us.” He unrolled his bedroll then laid his short sword on the ground beside it.
“Well, I like to end a long day like that with a hot piece of meat and some warm bread.”
“I have dried meat in my bag.”
I shook my head. “I prefer it juicy.” I pulled out the striker from my bag and got the first piece of wood to smoke. After a couple breaths, I was able to make the flames appear, and soon they grew into a full fire.
He sat in his bedroll and watched me.
I put the meat on the spit and started the roast, along with a couple slices of raw dough that I’d packed. Juice dripped from the meat and sizzled on the hot rocks, and the bread started to glow as it turned a golden brown.
With his forearms on his knees, he watched me, his eyes a lighter color in the glow from the fire.
I removed the meat and bread and divided them between us. After my first bite, my stomach gave a growl of approval. “Worth it.”
He ate in silence, chewing his food slowly while keeping his eyes on the fire or me. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a canteen. He removed the lid, took a drink, and then an amber droplet missed his mouth and streaked down his chin.