Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
I cling to him, kissing him back, trying to show him just how much I adore him. I know we’re both stalling but I don’t care. I would happily have kisses from Nemeth until the end of time.
He sets me back down on my feet again with utter gentleness and then sighs. He holds his hand out to me, his gaze upon the door, and I slip my hand in his. We move closer to the edge, and then he nods at me, lifting one foot.
And together, we step over the edge of the portal and outside of the tower for the first time in over two years.
Chapter
Fifty-Eight
I’m holding my breath.
Holding my breath, my eyes tightly closed, and I wait for something to happen. Time feels as if it’s slowed, my pulse pounding in my ears. My slippers—made for walking on the even stone floors of the tower—sink into the sands of the beach. A breeze ruffles my hair, pulling a few strands loose from my braid. Somewhere in the distance, a sea bird cries out.
I wait for the goddess’s wrath to fall upon us. I wait for lightning to strike us down. For the skies to rumble with thunder and the wind to wail, letting us know she’s displeased that we’ve broken our vow to remain in the tower. I wait for anything, any sign at all.
Nothing happens.
I exhale and open my eyes.
It’s…a nice day. The sun shines down from above without a cloud in the sky. The breeze is cool for the otherwise warm day. The sandy beach surrounding the tower looks pristine and untouched, and if the waves seem to be a little high and white-capped, it makes for a pretty scene.
Shouldn’t it be…awful? Out here? As punishment? “I don’t understand,” I say to Nemeth, my clammy hand still clutched in his. “I thought we’d feel something.”
“I did, too,” he confesses. His gaze moves over the bright blue skies and he squints, raising a hand to shield his eyes. “Perhaps the goddess has not noticed yet. Or perhaps she understands our problem and forgives us.”
Out of nowhere, thunder rumbles overhead, loud and crackling.
“Or not,” I say tightly, clutching at his hand as I stare up at the still-blue sky. “Dragon shite.”
Nemeth extends a wing over my head as fat drops of rain begin to fall from above. It seems impossible for it to rain on us without clouds overhead, but I guess the gods can do whatever they want. I peer out from under Nemeth’s wing, thinking of the small pack I have on my back with my cloak and a change of clothing. Nemeth insists upon carrying everything heavy but I don’t mind carrying my fair share. I glance up at my lover, and the rain is sluicing down his dark gray skin in rivulets. “Do we…go back inside and wait out the rain or do we just soldier on through?”
He shakes his head slowly. “It seems insulting to retreat back to the tower after taking two steps out. We’ll continue onward. Let us give the rain a moment.”
Sure enough, the patter of rain stops as quickly as it started, and Nemeth shakes off his wings before folding them up again. “Shall we have a look around?”
I nod, not trusting my voice when a knot rises in my throat. We really are leaving. We’ve done it now. There’s no turning back. It doesn’t matter that we had no choice. The goddess would probably argue that our choice could have been to starve. The Golden Moon Goddess has never been a goddess of kindness and understanding, after all.
I cling to Nemeth’s hand for a moment longer, and when I take a step forward, my shoe scrapes on something hard. I glance down and realize it’s one of the bricks that used to cover the door. It’s nearly covered in sand, and a quick look around shows that more of them are scattered against the wall of the tower and off to the side, most of them covered in grit or half-buried.
It reminds me of the dead men who should still be on this beach.
Instead of investigating our surroundings, I scan the sands for dead bodies. They would have rotted, I think, though I have no idea how much or how little would remain. I doubt they would have coin, but they might have weapons. More knives. We can always use more knives.
So while Nemeth looks around on the beach, his mood as apprehensive as mine, I go hunting. A short distance from the door, I find what looks like a ribcage half-buried in the sands. I use my shoe to kick some of the sand away, and the moment I do, I see a dirty piece of cloth…and then a faded symbol embroidered on the cuff of a sleeve.