Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
By the time I find the entrance to the walled-off part of town that belongs to the guild, I’m soaked. Once I pass through the impressive gates, I’m lost in an entirely new maze of barracks and halls and libraries. When I find the large, ostensibly gray building that must surely, surely be the main guild hall, my clothes are heavy and dripping with water and I’ve wandered over half of Vastwarren itself. I’m probably carrying all the mud in my boots, too.
I’m in a dreadful mood by the time I see the statue of Sparkanos the Swan, the first artificer. Triumph surges in me again, and I tilt my umbrella back, ignoring the fat drops of rain that spatter on my clothes as I regard him. Sparkanos’s statue wears a long cloak, the fabric swirling out behind him as he clutches the Sphere of Reason under one arm, a sword in the other. At the hem of his cloak, it looks as if the fabric is turning into feathers, a nod to his curse. It’s a powerful-looking statue, and one I’ve read about and seen drawings of in books, but this is the first time I’ve seen such a wonder in person. I’m utterly breathless at the sight.
To think that could be me someday, with a powerful artifact tucked under my arm, paving the way for others to bring our world out of darkness and back to the enlightenment of the ancients.
My mood lightens and I’m smiling as I race toward the long climb of stone steps that leads to the hall itself. It seems as if the entire city is here. There’s a crowd on the steps despite the driving rain, and when I push my way forward with a few muttered apologies, I’m not surprised to see that the doors to the hall are wide open and even more people are crowded inside.
The hall looks exactly as I pictured it. Light streams in from outside through great windows strategically placed to highlight statues of the guild’s most famous artificers. The room itself is three stories tall and longer than it is wide. High above, there are stuffed birds lining the walls, reminders that the guild chooses their namesakes. There’s a long nave, much like in an old church, with a sodden brown carpet down the center of the room. People are squeezed in, and far ahead, at the front of the hall, I can see a banner and a dais.
The crowd is obnoxious, jostling to get inside the hall. A man nearby elbows me, knocking me into my neighbor…who promptly palms my backside. I let out a squeal of outrage, but when I snap my umbrella shut to strike my attacker, I can’t tell who it is. There are several men smirking at me, dressed in fine coats and wearing hats, rain dripping off them.
An uneasy feeling starts in the pit of my gut and I wonder if I should have brought Gwenna after all. Now that I’m looking around, I don’t see any other women.
In fact, I might be the only woman here.
That is…very interesting in a very alarming sort of way.
I draw myself up, my jaw clenched, and decide the only way to handle this is to be aggressive. I swat at men with my closed umbrella. “Step aside. I need to enter,” I declare in a loud voice. “Move it! Coming through!”
There are a few grumbles, but the crowd continues to part, letting me in. I make it to the doors, and to my surprise, I’m standing behind one of the large, horned Taurians. There’s another thing I never see at my father’s hold—the strange bull-headed people from the plains.
Well, of course there are a few Taurians who are artificers. It makes sense, doesn’t it? If a human can be an artificer, why not a Taurian? I decide to treat them like everyone else and give the man in front of me a smack on his thick arm with my umbrella handle. “Let me through!”
He growls low and angry in his throat, turning to glare at me, and the swivel of his horned head is so great that I let out a very undignified squeak and retreat, losing my balance. I stagger, arms flailing—
—only to be caught around the waist and saved by strong arms and the irritated, strange expression of another Taurian, this one with golden eyes.
THREE
HAWK
My skin practically itches as more and more humans crowd into the main guild hall. It’s recruitment day, so it shouldn’t be surprising. Today’s the day we try to find enough students to make a Five—a trained team for exploring the ruins. Only half of the people who are here will actually apply, but it feels like everyone in Vastwarren shows up to gawk at the normally closed-off guild buildings. It’s like this every time, but this year it’s particularly irksome because of the way the calendar falls.