Firestorm (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

It would be easier now. Before, in the cove, the fear of Eric’s death had weighed on her mind.
    She sat there a few minutes more, enjoying the warmth and closeness of Eric’s body. How the young man had wormed his way into her heart remained a mystery, but she was not about to let him go now. The ship offered little privacy for a couple – the crew slept in hammocks beneath the deck while their company squeezed into the small cabin with the captain – so she had to savour every little moment.
    Finally, she lifted Eric’s head from her lap and tucked a rolled up jerkin underneath him for a pillow.
    Eric stirred, his blue eyes flashing as they opened to watch her. “Where are you going?”
    Inken leaned down and kissed him, lingering as their tongues met. It was a while before she pulled away. “I want to check on Enala. You get some sleep. We need you well rested.”
    Eric yawned and nodded, closing his eyes again.
    Inken grinned and stood, climbing down from the crate and walking back to the cabin door. Pulling it open, she made her way into the darkness within. A single candle provided the only source of light in the small room, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. A desk was crammed into the rear corner, making way for the sleeping rolls they’d squeezed into the cabin. A single bed took up the other wall.
    Enala lay curled up on the bed, covers drawn around her head with only a few tuffs of blond hair showing. The covers shook as the door swung closed, and a half-choked sob came from the darkness. It was the only noise the girl had made for two days.
    Inken moved across and sat on the foot of the bed. The pile of blankets grew still, so Inken scooted back on the mattress and leaned against the wall. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she sat in the darkness, contemplating what to say.
    What could she say to this girl? In less than two weeks Enala had witnessed the brutal murder of her parents, the death of a friend, and the loss of the dragon she rode. Never mind the revelation that the ancient evil known as Archon was hunting her, wanted her dead.
    It was too much for anyone to take, let alone a seventeen-year-old girl. Inken doubted she had the strength to cope any better – she would be in the same position as Enala if their positions were reversed.
    Even so, Enala had to know she was not alone anymore. For Inken herself, the search for Enala had never been about the Sword of Light, but a girl who needed protection from evil. She had to convince Enala that, though they were strangers, they cared about her. She had to convince her to trust them.
    Inken released a long breath as she realised she had no idea where to start. She chuckled, and decided not to mention to the others she was as clueless as them. Still, she had to try something .
    Closing her eyes, Inken began to talk.
    She began with the trivial, the mundane. She spoke of the white mare she had purchased just a few short weeks before, and how absurd she’d felt riding such a conspicuous animal. A bounty hunter riding a white horse would be the talk of the town – not an ideal situation for a profession requiring subtly. She spoke of her debt back in Chole, the cost of her equipment, her old friends and what they must think of her now, after she’d betrayed them to rescue Eric and the others.
    Then Inken spoke of her childhood, of the time her mother finally decided she’d had enough. Cold to the end, the woman had walked away without looking back. Not a kiss or a hug goodbye for the five-year-old she left behind, just a wave and a door slammed in her face.
    From then on it had been just Inken and her father.
    And things had only grown worse. Her father was a notorious drunk, and with her mother gone his attention soon turned to Inken. He often returned drunk in the early afternoon, unleashing strings of profanities which quickly disintegrated into screaming fits; the kind that shook the walls and led to knocks on the door from neighbours. In