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)
“What do you see?” I call out.
Her face twists with alarm. “How can something like that sing—ah!” She screams, slapping her hands over her mouth while several sailors shout and others recoil as if veering from a gruesome sight.
“This, I need to see.” I struggle to stand.
“Stay where you are!” Captain Aron hollers, but my curiosity is piqued by Annika’s terror.
Her profile blanches as a new level of fear grips her. “Fates, what is that?” She points to something on the horizon.
My attention is glued to her when a searing pain hits me.
15
Annika
“I see something! I see it! Is that …” Scales shimmer in the water—an iridescent kaleidoscope of pink, white, and green. First one sleek body, then another, then a half-dozen more, cutting like arrows through the water toward our ship.
These are the sirens?
“What do you see?” Tyree calls out, but I pay little attention, my focus torn between these mythical creatures surrounding us and the poor attempt to rescue the overboard sailor, who has no interest in reaching for the net they cast.
Suddenly, a round face emerges from the water’s surface, and the sun’s rays catch mottled gray flesh, like that of a rotting corpse. Cold white eyes scan the ship as it opens its mouth and sings. I barely notice the song, too horrified by the rows of pin-like teeth. “How can something like that sing—ah!” I stifle my scream with my hands as four sirens leap out from the depths to claim a corner of Radic, sinking their teeth into his limbs. A cloud of crimson billows below the water’s surface as they pull him under.
My stomach churns as I avert my gaze from the massacre to the horizon.
A dark shadow cuts through the water, at least ten fins breaking the surface as it propels itself toward us. “Fates, what is that?” Forget Radic. Does no one see the coming beast? It must be two times the length of our ship.
No one is answering me. “Captain!” I holler. “There is something in the water, heading straight for—”
My words cut off as I discover the scene behind me unfolding—of three sailors binding a raw merth cord around Tyree’s neck while another yanks off his boots and fishes out the rest of the hidden loot.
Six more have swords aimed at me. I have no hope of fighting them off.
“But we paid you in jewels!”
A few sailors have the decency to study the deck floor.
Captain Aron jerks his chin. “Hurry and be done with him.”
I watch with mute horror as they lift Tyree and toss him over the side of the ship. A loud plunk sounds a second later.
With him gone, they focus on me, a fresh cord of raw merth dangling from one sailor’s fingertips.
The sword points get closer and I back up until I have nowhere to go but down. “This was your plan all along?”
“Ever since you forced me to sail to Westport,” Captain Aron admits without missing a beat. “Told ya I have a few tricks up my sleeve, and one of them is makin’ sure your kind isn’t on my ship when the beast shows up.”
“That wasn’t me, that was Tyree! I will gladly sail to Northmost. Turn the ship around!” I attempt my most commanding voice.
“It’s too late for that.” But guilt touches his face.
“You have no honor.”
“Honor won’t help us at the bottom of the sea, Princess, which is where we’ll all end up if we don’t rid ourselves of you right now.” He snaps his fingers and a man seizes my wrist while the one with the silver cord readies my binding.
A wave of déjà vu hits, and I can already feel the pain of a thousand razors slicing across my flesh before the cord touches my skin. But this isn’t a river outside Cirilea, and Romeria is not here to save me.
16
Romeria
I wake with a start, bolting upright in bed.
Jarek’s bed, I realize, sizing up the room and then the body lying next to me.
The very naked male legionary body with—thankfully—a sheet covering his lower half. It seems someone attempted to wash the smears of black blood from his face but gave up halfway through. Eden, if I had to guess.
My memories of the night slam into me like a sledgehammer. It wasn’t just a nightmare; it was real.
Jarek, screaming as the wisps dug deep within him to claw out the poison.
Me, shrieking at Oredai with tears in my eyes, demanding to know what they were doing.
The Cindrae leader, with that smug fucking smile of his, insisting Jarek would die without their aid.
Zorya and Loth, held down by the guards so they couldn’t slaughter the wisps.
Me, gripping Jarek’s hand in mine and thinking he might crush my bones while I sobbed, overwrought with helplessness.
I’m positive this night will haunt me for years to come.