Raphael
I flip through his thoughts, searching deeper. The prisoner. Does he
know anything about a beautiful, silver-eyed demi-Fey?
The prisoner has been here for some time. Captured in the war with the
humans, but they didn’t put him with the rest of the rabble. He’s too
valuable, for some reason. Doesn’t seem particularly valuable to Cadoc.
Just another half-breed mongrel…
My heart skips a beat. Raphael.
I invade Cadoc’s every thought, sifting through ideas, memories,
everything he knows. I’m ravaging the inside of his skull, grasping the
threads, then pulling the strings to bend him to my will.
Now, Cadoc wonders if the prisoner is literally valuable.
Maybe he’s rich. In fact, he’s probably rich, or they’d leave him with the
rest, right? If Cadoc will just do this tiny thing, just unlock the door, the
prisoner might reward him handsomely. Yes. That’s what he should do.
Odelia will fall back in love with him, and his father will get his job back in
the stables. Cadoc absolutely shouldn’t question this drunk lady more
because she’s a distraction from what’s really important. She’s just a tiny
woman, a drunken musician, not worthy of his notice.
When I withdraw from his mind, he stares at me, dazed. Then, without a
word, he pulls a skeleton key from his belt and opens a door into yet
another torchlit stairwell.
I follow him down a flight of stairs, the air growing staler, like wet earth
and mushrooms.
My heart is pounding as he leads me to another wooden door. He slides
a second key into a rusty lock, turns it twice, and pushes the door open.
I can hardly breathe.
“You,” he says into the darkness. “Get up.”
I step inside, trying to see in the dark.
In the corner of a grimy stone cell sits a shirtless man. For a second, I
almost don’t recognize him. Dirt smears his body, and
The Culling Test
“Wow, demi-Fey? I’ve never seen one. What did they look like?”
“Fucking weird, pardon my language. The man had pointy ears,
obviously. Dark hair. Tattoos on his arms, eerie silver eyes like metal.
Beautiful blonde woman with him. You know, I don’t mind the women
demi-Fey quite as much. I’d give her one,” he says thoughtfully. “Pardon
the expression.”
I toss a horseshoe, and it clatters to the floor of his stall. A thought starts
to blossom in my mind. “Did they have anything with them?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
I open my eyes wide. “Well, like you said, they’re dangerous. And you
know the saying, if you see something, say something.”
He holds up a finger. “Do you know what, love? The fella was carrying
something. It was in a box, like a musical instrument or something. They
never brought it out again.” His eyes widen. “Do you think they could be
planning something? You don’t think it was a bomb, do you?” He scrubs a
hand over his mouth. “With all these people here? Should I call the police?”
I toss both horseshoes one after the other, so off the mark that one
nearly hits one of the prize dolls. “It’s probably nothing. I doubt demi-Fey
even know how to make a bomb. We don’t want the police shutting the
whole fair down over an empty box.”
What I know at this point is that Raphael and Vivian came in earlier and
left a package here, then left.
The Excalibur replica.
“We will obviously need to reschedule the shadow trial.” Wrythe sighs.
“Ms. Melisende can do it properly with the rest of the cadets.”
“No,” Raphael says.
Wrythe frowns at him. “Right. You think she should be expelled after
all?”
“She won’t do the shadow trial again. She’s shown her leadership by
sending cadets to call for backup,” Raphael says. “She followed an enemy
agent through the fair
Hangi tür kitapları seviyorsun?
🔎 Polisiye
💕 Romantik
🚀 Bilim Kurgu
🏰 Fantastik
📖 Klasik
🧠 Kişisel Gelişim
🏛️ Tarih
😱 Gerilim
Make sure he doen't kill himself
So despite the tiredness dripping down my bones like tar, I stride out of
the room with renewed determination. I can’t stop. I won’t. I will keep
going. I will keep trying. Because I will tear a rip through this fucking
world so I can get to her…
Or die trying.
Every time I hear flapping wings, I half expect Argo to burst through the
trees and land in front of me. But he’s probably still on a ship somewhere in
the fucking ocean, and I don’t know what any animal mender will be able to
do for him.
Yet another thing out of my control.
I’ve tried to pour out power here every day since I got back, and still,
nothing. Rot boils in my veins, fueled by my rage, but the well of raw
power stays empty.
It just makes me even more infuriated.
I feel exhaustion tugging at me as incessantly as the wrongness of my
separation from her. But I stay fastened to the base of this mountain, failing
over and over again. Because failing is better than giving up. Failing means
I’m still trying.
At least there’s no one around to see it—to see this pathetic attempt to
stop failing. No one else comes here. The timberwings won’t allow it—not
even their preferred handlers or riders. The beasts are far too territorial over
this feed site to tolerate anyone else. The only exception, apparently, is me.
Which is why it’s really fucking stupid when I hear a timberwing land
behind me, and then my brother calls out, “You need to rest.”
I sigh, dropping my hands down to my sides. “You shouldn’t be here.”
The female timberwing past the boulders lets off a guttural warning
growl that vibrates through the air. My brother’s beast lets out a responding
one, both equally bristled. At least Ryatt has the good sense not to
dismount. He doesn’t, however, have the good sense not to irritate me.
“Judging by the
