The Stone Circle Queen by Ophelia Wells Langley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author:Ophelia Wells Langley
- Language: English
- Genre: Arthurian Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
SORCHA
“Sorcha, get up. We have to go. Now.” Conall’s voice sounds in my
head as his wolf form looms above me on the stone. He nudges me with a
cold, black nose.
I stretch, relishing in the movement of my body for the first time in a
long while. Tiny rocks fall from the edge of the platform, cascading down
onto the floor. Rubble from the stone sarcophagus covers my body and I
shake my arms out, coughing as the dust settles. I struggle for air, my lungs
tight and my throat when I realize where I am. The conservatory.
Overgrown and wild with windows broken from the plants taking over. My
earth magic cocooned me until I could wake myself from King Achill’s
smoke magic.
A tiny, wingless pixie pops her head up over the black wolf’s ears,
scrambling over his face and his nose, grabbing my face in her tiny hands.
“Hi, Princess,” Hazel squeaks out. She stares in my eyes and whispers,
“The King is coming!”
“We have little time.” Conall’s wolf stalks around the rubble, his
enormous paws leaving prints as big as my hands. His tail swishes
impatiently as it brushes up against my legs.
I look at Conall’s wolf and then to Hazel, a thousand questions burning
in my mind. Barely able to swing my legs over the side of the stone
platform, I am still too weak from being asleep for so long. Chills creep
along my arms when my bare feet touch the cold stone floor. “I’m not going
anywhere, Conall, until you can tell me what happened.”
Hazel tugs at my shirtsleeve but her eyes are locked on the doors of the
conservatory. “But, they’re coming…”
“Not if I can help it,” I say, sweeping my arm in front of me. Nothing
happens. Though my fingers shimmer with green and I envision vines
crawling across the floor, no magic comes forth. I stare down at my fingers,
confused.
“You haven’t finished your Rites.”
“But I thought—?” I shake my head. He’s right. I never made it to my
ancestral lands to finish my Rites in the stone circle.
“We have to go, Sorcha.” Conall adds a growl to the end of his
sentence. Hazel scurries behind the stone sarcophagus and behind some
ferns into the shadows. How she blends so seamlessly into her surroundings
baffles me.
“Conall, what’s happened?” I ask.
“You’ve been asleep, Sorcha. For a year. A lot has changed since your
magic woke within you.”
Just a year? Spots dance in front of my vision and I rub my face to clear
the sensation. It seems as if decades have passed instead.
“Now is not the time to withhold things from me, Conall.” I stare him
down, raising an eyebrow and, though I want to go to him, I don’t trust that
my legs will hold my weight.
Shouts sound from the edge of the garden and Hazel runs back to me,
shaking. I scoop her up into my arms and she scurries atop my shoulders.
She tugs on my hair, hands trembling.
“I want to tell you more, Sorcha, I do. But not right now. We need to
move.” Conall looks at the doors, his hackles rising. A low growl rumbles
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