Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 151630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 758(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 758(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
“Balance?” Cassie asks as her brother hides behind her because Caddoc is still trying to get a whiff of him. “What balance is there to death?”
“A soul needs to move on, and most do. It’s why the sluagh colonies aren’t filled to the brims,” I explain. “The truth of the matter is most people move on quickly because they’re ready. Otherwise, the world would be filled with spirits, and they would be restless. So restless they would disturb the waking world around them. I suspect that’s why no one is allowed near the mountains and why your people never came back.”
“They’re dead, too, aren’t they?” Lee asks, his expression grim.
“I think we can count on it,” I reply. “That many restless dead forget they’re trying to move on. They become angry even if they were not in life. They know they’re not in the right place, and after a while they seek revenge for it on anyone they can.”
“Myrddin needs my father because of his access to the mountain,” Lee says with a huff. “Why didn’t I think of it? We know he’s holding them there, but they had magical properties, too. Those mountains have long been ruled by my family. It’s where we hide our treasures. The sluagh actually guard some of them. I think he needs my father to access the mountain and get what he needs. He has to have my father alive to perform his ritual, and the only way to get him to agree was to give him what he wants.”
“My mother.” Rhys leans in, his arm going around my waist.
“He’s also convinced my father that he can take his temple back if he integrates with Bris,” Lee explains.
“Why bring Ostara into it?” Cassie asks.
I think I’ve figured that out. “She’s the experiment. They found a fairly weakened ascended goddess. If they can find the right spell to peel her off her host, then they can do the same with Bris. Bris is a non-corporeal spirit. They might think he could get sucked into the trap, and let me tell you, his soul moving on would be the big bang of that kind of magic.”
I shudder at the thought of it. Bris leaving could be everything Myrddin needs to do his will. To close us off. When that is done, he will open the gates to Hell and Earth will become a warzone like nothing we’ve ever seen.
It must be stopped at all costs.
“That might be enough to close the celestial planes off.” Rhys takes a long breath. “And he thinks you can stop him.”
He’s talking to me. Of course he is. I don’t understand it. “Me?”
“Yes, my love. You. He’s afraid of you,” Rhys says. “I want nothing more than to take you to Lee’s village and hide you away, but you are the key to all of this.”
“He’s terrified of you, Shy,” Lee agrees. “I saw it in his eyes when you were fighting him in the dining hall. You are what he didn’t count on. He thought he would get Rhys’s parents.”
“But the trap was about me,” I point out. “The crone came for me. Not the king and queen. Not the high priest. Me.”
“Which is why we have to consider the fact that the gods we call are not always the ones who answer,” Lee says solemnly. “What if my father and the wizard sought to trick your parents by hiring the hag, but the hag tricked them? What if, after all these years, she still loves the god she worked for? She is a divination witch. What if she saw what must happen and gave it the push it needed?”
“Like the dark prophet did.” Rhys nods. “This is all dependent on you, my goddess. I can stand by your side and accept whatever fate brings us, but you will lead us down the path. You will win or lose this battle.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I am so afraid of his words. Because they ring true. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
I feel my power, but I don’t know how to use it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be. I only know I’m more than I thought I was.
Water caresses my toes and I glance their way, thinking someone must have spilled. When I look down I see my bare feet in the mud of the pond that father used to fish in, and for a blink I am there. I feel the sun on my face, the warm winds of a Texas spring on my skin. It’s almost dark and Mama will call me in soon, but for now I stand beside my father as he whips the fishing pole into the pond and waits.
“Such a feral child,” he says with a grin. “You know we buy you shoes, Shy.”