Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Wynter found Dozan’s eyes first. There was trust there. Somehow. She looked back to Fordham. “I’m not recovered, but I’m better,” she admitted.
That felt like a huge step.
“You can say no to this, but we need your help. There are terrorists in this town who are set to destroy the world we live in within a few days. We need to know who their leader is, but he covers his face. We need someone who can identify a person, even with a mask on.”
Wynter tilted her chin up. Some of the princess returned in that gesture. It didn’t matter that she was clad in a white dressing gown in a blank room. She was every bit as regal as her brother. “You want me to read his magical aura.”
“We do.”
She rose to her feet and took a step into the middle of the room. Her eyes were only on Dozan. Her jailor in so many ways. “I would need access to my magic.”
Dozan met her eyes steadily. “You want to go through with this?”
“I want to be useful. I’m done sitting in this cell.”
“I can arrange for Amond to give you a tonic to bring it back,” he told her.
His eyes weren’t flat and emotionless when he looked at her. In fact, Kerrigan had only seen him look at one other person that way—her. Had Dozan fallen for the mad princess?
“Promise to come back to me when it’s over.”
Wynter arched an eyebrow, but now that Kerrigan saw it, she couldn’t unsee it. Wynter clearly felt something for Dozan as well.
“And if I don’t?” Wynter asked.
“Then, the glass comes back.”
She shuddered at those words, but her eyes were steady. “I’ll come back.”
Dozan nodded, accepting it as fact. “Then, I’ll bring Amond.”
Kerrigan and Fordham exchanged a knowing look.
Wynter just turned toward her brother. “Where do we begin?”
48
THE MEETING
“These masks are hideous,” Wynter muttered as she fitted the red mask into place.
“As if your cult was much better,” Fordham teased.
Wynter scoffed. “A masquerade is always preferable.”
Amond had given her a fresh dose of her treatment, and she was even more lucid now than she had been days earlier. Her magic was back, and she kept fiddling with her shadows, as if disbelieving they were still there. Kerrigan hardly blamed her. She didn’t know how she would react if her magic had suddenly disappeared for a month.
“If you say so,” Fordham said.
“Would you two be quiet?” Kerrigan said. “We still have to get inside, and there’s a guard at the side entrance I used last time.”
“No Collector at the main door though,” Fordham noted.
“We should just stride in as if we belong. That’s what everyone else is doing. You look like idiots, skulking in the shadows,” Wynter said and then walked forward, as if nothing in the world bothered her.
“Was she always like this?”
Fordham watched her walk away with a wistful expression. “She used to be like this far more often. It was only in later years that she turned into …” He trailed off. “She seems better.”
“Good. Then, we follow her.”
Fordham put on the mask, and then the pair of them stalked toward the Red Masks meeting.
It was nearly midnight, and the streets were dark, save for the glow from the warehouse. Red Masks swarmed into the warehouse by the dozens. Already, there were more than two hundred inside, and the crowd was growing. If this was just the Father’s elite group, then how many more Red Masks were there all over the city?
Kerrigan was nearly to the entrance when a hand snaked out and grasped her wrist. She looked up in alarm, prepared to fight back.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Valia whispered.
Kerrigan startled, checking to make sure her most recognizable feature was still hidden by her hood. “How can you tell?”
“It’s my job.”
Kerrigan wanted to hug her. She hadn’t been sure that Valia hadn’t double crossed her, but hearing Prescott’s conversation, she’d become more worried that Valia was dead. That Isa had buried her when she discovered the betrayal.
“You’re all right,” Kerrigan said with relief. “I thought you had been compromised. I thought Isa had …”
She let the words trail off, and Valia shook her head.
“Isa wouldn’t hurt me.”
Kerrigan gave her a skeptical look, but Valia waved her off.
“I’m fine. Okay? I assume you have a plan,” Valia whispered. “Don’t die. I can’t save you in there.”
“I know.”
Valia leaned closer. “Adjust your gait. You’re too recognizable as it is.”
Kerrigan nodded at her friend, and then Valia disappeared into the crowd. Her relief was short-lived before she was shunted forward into the crush of Red Masks. They were pushed tight into a mass at the center. A hand touched her back, and she knew instantly that it was Fordham behind her.
“I have eyes on Wynter,” he whispered against her ear.
Kerrigan took his hand and moved them off the center and into an area with a little more space. The doors closed behind them with a crushing finality. Then, a light appeared on the stage, and the Father stood at the center of the stage.