Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Micah had tangled with Cookie’s poisonvines before. They paralyzed upon contact.
“You might need me on the battlefield—” Viori went quiet as vines grew around her feet, despite her protest, forcing Micah to sever contact with her. Those vines spread fast, soon to create a cocoon that would separate her from the rest of the world.
“I’ll let nothing happen to you,” Micah vowed as the doll dived into her arms. His gaze fastened on hers until the last second, when foliage blocked those luminous eyes filled with concern.
“Let nothing happen to you,” she countered from within.
A cocoon grew around the oracle and Pearl Jean as well, leaving only the three kings.
As the wall of bark and ice completed, at least fifty trolls scrambled over the top, entering the clearing—now the arena.
“Oh! I should probably warn everyone,” Amber exclaimed from her cocoon. “When Viori starts singing, cover your ears. Nothing has ever been more important in your life.”
“Do not sing,” Micah commanded his wife. Put herself into a prolonged sleep? Risk a return to the mortal world? No! Even if they were apart, he wanted her protected.
As Micah, Kaysar and Jareth launched into battle, Kaysar erupted into a song of his own. His voice...the pain of it...the horrific tenor. Micah ignored the excruciating agony, doing his best to resist the madness clawing through his mind. Hot blood poured from his ears and nose. What he wouldn’t give for surdi root. Anything to deaden the sound. But the trolls bled, too, some collapsing and thrashing, out of commission. Others fought on.
As if they sensed Viori alone, the entire enemy horde converged on her cocoon. Micah slashed, clawed, punched and kicked. A troll with massive horns slammed into him, shoving him to the ground, its sharp teeth aimed at his throat. But ice spread over the creature’s face, thanks to Jareth, allowing Micah to roll free and disembowel the fiend.
The winter king hacked so many trolls with his shards of ice, a new wall formed, one made of body parts. Kaysar used metal claws to turn his opponents into confetti. Black, tarry blood sprayed in continuous arcs, a foul stench coating the air.
As soon as enemy numbers dwindled, the battle nearly won, other brutes scaled the original wall. They, too, headed for Viori.
Rage boiled in Micah’s veins, much of it self-directed. My fault. He should’ve killed the beings when he’d had the chance. They weren’t a backup plan; they were a fool’s mistake.
Then more trolls arrived and attacked. He killed with savage abandon, taking no prisoners. Death-spray coated his hands, leaving blisters. Horns and talons grazed him. Fangs ripped through various muscles. Did he stop? Never.
Kaysar’s song tolled on. Still trolls poured in. The largest contingent yet. With the biggest brutes. Veins bulged from corded muscle. Fangs wider than some tusks. Spikes protruded from each vertebra. Each warrior frothed aggression.
“Not sure how much longer I can go on,” Jareth admitted between panting breaths. Using a sword of ice, he decapitated two trolls at once.
“You’ll do this as long as needed,” Kaysar snapped, ripping out one troll’s throat while stomping on the face of another.
Still more trolls arrived.
Never had Micah thought he would one day fight beside his greatest enemy. Or who he thought was his greatest enemy. Or that his greatest enemy would become his ally against his closest friend, his new greatest enemy.
His ears twitched, and he frowned. Was that...? His eyes narrowed. It was. Ignoring his orders, Viori sang inside her cocoon. Until the stems of her cocoon opened with a jolt, revealing a poisonvine beast with two arms and two legs—a soldier at attention behind his maker.
Roaring, the newborn belua launched into action, attacking with brutal force. Swipes of his powerful vines sent trolls flying over the ice wall. Other trolls were stunned upon contact before being torn into pieces.
Though the creature reduced the number of opponents, the battle raged on, trolls continually pouring in, each group more determined than the last. Wind picked up, gusting around Viori, lifting locks of her scarlet hair. The hem of her robe danced at her ankles, revealing a fearless Drendall sitting at her feet, weaving blades of grass together. Then, as fire crackled in her eyes, Viori altered the tone of her song.
The enemy army stopped in its tracks and dropped. They writhed, screamed and thrashed as—Micah’s eyes widened. Their bones. Bones sliced through their flesh to reveal faces.
Belua. Made from bones.
His own bones began to vibrate, as if about to come to life. Remembering Amber’s warning, he dropped his weapons and plugged his ears. To drown out the horror of his wife’s voice, he hummed to himself.
Only when the last troll drew its final breath did she quiet. As the last note faded, the bones toppled like their former owners, eyes closing for good.