Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
I lift my chin and his mouth tilts into a smirk as he nods subtly, as though finding my reaction worthy. Extending his hand silently, he offers me a black compass on a dark chain. I glance down as I take it and notice that the needle doesn’t point anywhere near north. It’s broken.
Now I understand the smirk.
“Thank you,” I tell him and bow my head.
“Use it wisely,” he replies, his eyes blatantly mocking me as he bows.
“Broken compass,” I tell Xaden as I fall back into line.
“You can put it in my box of nothingness,” he replies. “We’ll keep them on the bedside table.”
“I’m not carrying this thing home.” But for now, I lift the chain over my head.
“It’s bad luck to throw away a gift from Zihnal,” Xaden lectures as Ridoc heads to the table.
Ridoc draws a card with a painted pair of lips, and the crowd cheers.
The way this is going, I half expect the lanky blond man approaching Ridoc to hand him a tin of lip rouge, or maybe a pair of lips that’s been sliced off a dead cow. Instead, the man clasps both sides of Ridoc’s face, then smacks a loud kiss onto each of his cheeks.
“Thank you,” Ridoc says, and the two bow, then part. He lifts his brows at me before taking his place in line.
Cat is given a gold necklace with a dangling ruby the size of my thumb.
Drake draws next.
“The claw!” Calixta announces, holding the painted symbol high, and the crowd cheers when the men translate.
My heart jumps into my throat as a bear of a man marches forward from the right, huge fists swinging by his sides.
Drake doesn’t flinch.
I ready myself for the punch that’s inevitably coming and wonder if the man’s nails have been filed into sharp points.
He stops in front of Drake, then reaches into the front pocket of his tunic.
And takes out a mewling kitten.
Drake receives the orange tabby with both hands, then thanks him and bows.
“What the fuck are we going to do with that thing for the rest of the trip?” Xaden questions.
“Keep Andarna from eating it.” A bead of sweat drips down the side of my face, and I wobble as my head starts to swim, but I keep upright.
“Dizzy?” Xaden asks, sidestepping so my shoulder rests against his arm.
“I could use some sleep like everyone else,” I answer but lean a little on him.
Trager draws a card from the center and hands it to Calixta.
“The arrow!” She holds it high, revealing a painted arrow, then turns it to the audience. The men translate, and the crowd falls silent.
Trager staggers backward. Time slows to a crawl as he turns toward us with three fumbling footsteps. His gaze lurches for Cat, and then he falls to his knees and sways.
An arrow protrudes from his heart.
He’s dead before Ridoc and I can catch him.
Sometimes the best gift the god of luck can give is his absence.
—Zehyllna: Isle of Zihnal by Major Asher Sorrengail
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
No. No. NO.
I stare down at Trager’s unseeing eyes as Ridoc and I lower him to his back, and a muffled sound comes from the left.
Ridoc’s chest heaves and his fingers tremble as he presses them to the side of Trager’s throat. He looks over at me and shakes his head, telling me what I already knew.
“No!” I shriek, but nothing works past my throat.
“Do not react!” Xaden’s wingleader voice barrels through the roaring in my head, and his hands grip my shoulders.
Ridoc’s eyes flutter shut and he bows his head as I’m lifted to my feet.
Trager’s dead. It’s my mission. My responsibility. My fault.
“Focus on me,” Xaden orders, turning me in his arms. “You react, and he will have died in vain.”
My head swims, and the world slows again, my thoughts drowned out by the sound of my racing heart. It pounds against my ribs and beats in my ears as I look right.
Drake’s arms bulge as he holds Cat back, his hand covering her mouth.
That muffled sound.
It’s her screaming.
Drake’s face crumples for the length of a heartbeat as he whispers in her ear.
Her feet stop kicking, and she sags against his chest.
Garrick sets Ridoc back in formation, his stunned gaze locked on the ground. No, not the ground. Trager’s body. Garrick’s hands steady Ridoc’s shoulders for another couple of heartbeats before he leaves him to stand on his own in front of the silent, waiting crowd.
“Violence,” Xaden demands.
My focus drifts toward him, but it catches as I look past Ridoc and across the field. Every dragon holds their head lowered and aimed in our direction, but the gryphons are all facing inward—toward Silaraine.
She stumbles forward with her neck arched, her silver feathers shining in the sun. Three steps. Four. Five.
Kiralair follows, then moves to Sila’s side, shouldering some of the gryphon’s weight. Sila strains for one more step, like she can reach Trager if she just tries hard enough. But her ankles give, then her shoulders, and she collapses, her beak sliding down Kira’s side before her head slams into the ground.