Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
“If you wish to never leave Mordain.” Solange’s warning sounds like a threat, and Jarek grips his sword’s pommel in response, a move not missed by the caster.
She rolls her eyes at him. “I am merely stating facts.”
“Mordain has shields for protection,” Agatha elaborates. “Its connection to the elements is exceptionally strong.”
“It’s a pulse.” That’s what Wendeline called it.
“Yes. And that pulse has allowed the guild to build powerful wards to guard it from its enemies. Even your beast will not be allowed to get close to Nyos’s walls. Certainly not your legionaries, for no Islorian immortal has been able to cross the threshold since the day Prince Rhionn stole away with Caster Farren.”
“Are you saying I can’t break down those wards?” Not that I would know how. But Gesine never mentioned this. Maybe it’s because she basically warned me against ever setting foot on Mordain soil.
The tiniest smirk touches Solange’s lips. “You are powerful, but you are not all-powerful, Your Highness. And you are certainly not indestructible.”
“I’m well aware of that.” I have scars across my shoulder to prove it.
“Even if I escort you through, Lorel will bind your affinities the moment you pass the guild’s gates.” Solange shakes her head. “Did Gesine teach you nothing?”
“Caster Gesine had a lot to teach in a very short time,” Agatha snipes, defending her ardent pupil. She turns to me, adjusting her tone to one of lecturer. “As Prime, Lorel wears the Ring of Minerva, the first known guild leader of the caster era. It is akin to a ruler’s crown, and it strengthens her connection to her affinity. As a regular caster, her abilities with Aoife’s element were adequate. Now, they are easily triple that in strength. That is why she rarely ever leaves Nyos and why she certainly won’t now. But it also allows her to tap into the power of Mordain, manipulating the wards to suit her needs with a few whispered words. It is how Mordain controlled key casters in the past.”
“Like Farren.”
“Precisely. The wards can work on those who create and those who manipulate. Both casters and elven. Queen Neilina herself never set foot in Nyos. Some say it was because she deemed herself above attending to anyone, but I suspect she knew the risk, if Lorel decided to bind her. Regardless, Lorel will not allow you access to your affinities while you are anywhere near her.”
“But we need the scribes to figure out how to get rid of Malachi when he gets here,” I say weakly.
“Then I suggest you come up with a better plan than showing up at Nyos’s gates and demanding she release them, because I assure you, Lorel will be waiting for you,” Solange cautions.
I look to Agatha, hoping she might have an idea. She was the true puppet master behind ensuring this prophecy came to pass.
All she has for me, though, is a sympathetic smile laced with worry. “Perhaps rest for all will allow us fresh ideas.”
“How much time do we have before this Prime knows we are not giving her the Master Scribe?” Elisaf asks. An excellent question.
“She will expect an immediate response from me and a departure with due haste.”
“And how long does it take to get to Mordain by horseback?”
“For others, three days. For a group of Shadows? The trip can be completed in a day and a half at most, riding hard with rest only for the horses. We could make excuses for an additional day, due to lame animals and issues with the cargo.”
We need to buy time. “So, you lie and tell her you’re sending Agatha back, and then we have until tomorrow night before the Prime starts looking for her.” Which means the Master Scribe can’t be seen on the Ybarisan side again. That’s fine—I need to get her to Ulysede, where she will be safe.
“I know the perfect messenger for this task,” Agatha cuts in. “Look for Baedriya. She rode here with me and seems to have a good head on her shoulders—”
A cascade of stone chunks tumbles from the rift wall then, interrupting our dire conversation. Caindra, shifting from one clawed foot to another and back again.
“She is troubled,” Radomir notes, watching closely. “There is something in the rift. Something coming.”
He’s right. Her attention is riveted to the canyon in the earth.
My stomach roils. Is this the moment Malachi makes his grand appearance? Bexley did say he wouldn’t crawl out of the Nulling like a fiend, but maybe he’ll fly out on the back of a wyvern?
“On your horse now, Romeria,” Jarek commands, goading me toward my saddle with a firm hand on my back. Others follow suit, Solange hauling Agatha up with a holler from the elderly caster.
We’re backing our horses away when two mammoth forms shoot out from the rift and up into the sky, issuing earsplitting roars.