boast that they’d ever set eyes on the prophetess, until now
.
Sure, Bella has always been convinced that the prophetess exists. Looking back on it now, I’m convinced Mercedes was the reason Bella wanted me on her side to begin with—so I could reanimate the prophetess and Bella could benefit from her power. As a matter of fact, Bella forced me to try to reanimate some old woman whom she believed to be the prophetess, but of course, the old woman wasn’t
.
Nope, Mercedes Berg is the prophetess. And even though she’s this omniscient being, I can’t say I completely trust her. It’s not as though she’s ever done anything that would make me not want to trust her, it’s just that with all-powerful beings, you can’t help but wonder what their deal is. I keep asking myself if Mercedes really exists merely for the good of our society. Couldn’t it be possible that she falls victim to the same vices we all do—fame, power, and greed, to name just a few? What does Mercedes get out of making sure I unite all the creatures of the Underworld and become their Queen? Maybe it’s just a sign of my sinful humanity that I’m even doubting her in the first place
.
Truth be told, Mercedes worries me—her power is so extreme, no one really seems to know how strong or how powerful she truly is. And I believe Rand questions her for the same reasons. I guess I shouldn’t doubt her, since she’s never done anything other than insist I’m thesavior of our kind. Most people would probably be incredibly grateful to her. Just call me an ingrate I guess
.
And speaking of this whole savior stuff, Savior is a really big title to wear. And so, for that matter, is Queen. Really, if Rand would just stop playing the part of revolutionary, he’d make the perfect King. He’s kind, honest, and just. What more could you want in a King? Oh, and he’s incredibly hot. Hmm, and if I married him, that would make me Queen by default. Wonder if Mercedes would go for that …
Who am I kidding? Rand would no sooner become King than befriend Sinjin. So where does that leave me? The same place I’m always left when it comes to this subject—square one. And square one is getting old fast. Regardless, Mercedes seems to think I’ve accepted my fate as Queen because she keeps going on and on about my lessons and when I’ll be Queen this and when I’ll be Queen that
.
I just have this gut feeling that if I do follow my “calling” and become Queen, I’ll lose Rand. And that’s a big gamble to take
.
I opened my front door, shivered in the night wind, and beeped my remote, unlocking the doors of my silver Range Rover Freelander. The SUV had been a gift from Rand after my relocation to England.
But back to my present mission. There was lots of important stuff I needed to discuss with Rand—chiefly, when to start reanimating our legion. It seemed like it was taking Rand an eon to compile his list of the deceased. Really, I was itching to get started—to be able to give back to the soldiers who had given their lives for our cause.
I drove the two miles to Pelham Manor in silence. Once I arrived, I didn’t make any motion to undo my seat belt; I just sat there instead, staring up at the stoneedifice. I almost felt intimidated by the ancient walls. I turned off the headlights and melted into the darkness, shivering despite myself. I stepped outside to face the wide stone staircase that graced the front of Rand’s majestic home, leading to a pair of dark, heavy, wooden doors.
With the weight of the Underworld on my shoulders, I trudged up the stone steps and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later the door flew open and Christa appeared in her cowboy-and-Indian PJs, a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.
“Hi, Chris,” I said in a somewhat dejected tone.
“Hi, Jules, what’s up?” She rammed her spoon into the hard ice cream and seemed to wrestle with it before a smile of victory lit up her mouth, which she then
.
Sure, Bella has always been convinced that the prophetess exists. Looking back on it now, I’m convinced Mercedes was the reason Bella wanted me on her side to begin with—so I could reanimate the prophetess and Bella could benefit from her power. As a matter of fact, Bella forced me to try to reanimate some old woman whom she believed to be the prophetess, but of course, the old woman wasn’t
.
Nope, Mercedes Berg is the prophetess. And even though she’s this omniscient being, I can’t say I completely trust her. It’s not as though she’s ever done anything that would make me not want to trust her, it’s just that with all-powerful beings, you can’t help but wonder what their deal is. I keep asking myself if Mercedes really exists merely for the good of our society. Couldn’t it be possible that she falls victim to the same vices we all do—fame, power, and greed, to name just a few? What does Mercedes get out of making sure I unite all the creatures of the Underworld and become their Queen? Maybe it’s just a sign of my sinful humanity that I’m even doubting her in the first place
.
Truth be told, Mercedes worries me—her power is so extreme, no one really seems to know how strong or how powerful she truly is. And I believe Rand questions her for the same reasons. I guess I shouldn’t doubt her, since she’s never done anything other than insist I’m thesavior of our kind. Most people would probably be incredibly grateful to her. Just call me an ingrate I guess
.
And speaking of this whole savior stuff, Savior is a really big title to wear. And so, for that matter, is Queen. Really, if Rand would just stop playing the part of revolutionary, he’d make the perfect King. He’s kind, honest, and just. What more could you want in a King? Oh, and he’s incredibly hot. Hmm, and if I married him, that would make me Queen by default. Wonder if Mercedes would go for that …
Who am I kidding? Rand would no sooner become King than befriend Sinjin. So where does that leave me? The same place I’m always left when it comes to this subject—square one. And square one is getting old fast. Regardless, Mercedes seems to think I’ve accepted my fate as Queen because she keeps going on and on about my lessons and when I’ll be Queen this and when I’ll be Queen that
.
I just have this gut feeling that if I do follow my “calling” and become Queen, I’ll lose Rand. And that’s a big gamble to take
.
I opened my front door, shivered in the night wind, and beeped my remote, unlocking the doors of my silver Range Rover Freelander. The SUV had been a gift from Rand after my relocation to England.
But back to my present mission. There was lots of important stuff I needed to discuss with Rand—chiefly, when to start reanimating our legion. It seemed like it was taking Rand an eon to compile his list of the deceased. Really, I was itching to get started—to be able to give back to the soldiers who had given their lives for our cause.
I drove the two miles to Pelham Manor in silence. Once I arrived, I didn’t make any motion to undo my seat belt; I just sat there instead, staring up at the stoneedifice. I almost felt intimidated by the ancient walls. I turned off the headlights and melted into the darkness, shivering despite myself. I stepped outside to face the wide stone staircase that graced the front of Rand’s majestic home, leading to a pair of dark, heavy, wooden doors.
With the weight of the Underworld on my shoulders, I trudged up the stone steps and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later the door flew open and Christa appeared in her cowboy-and-Indian PJs, a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.
“Hi, Chris,” I said in a somewhat dejected tone.
“Hi, Jules, what’s up?” She rammed her spoon into the hard ice cream and seemed to wrestle with it before a smile of victory lit up her mouth, which she then
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