Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death: Read Online Free

their gratitude that she’d chosen to bed down away from them.
    Although Te’oma had risked her life to help save Espre, she’d been the one who put the young elf into such dangerous circumstances in the first place. Never mind the fact that she’d done so in a desperate attempt to convince the Lich Queen to bring her long-dead daughter back from Dolurrh. To these people—and to Kandler and Burch in particular—she was an irredeemable villain who could never be trusted.
    In truth, this didn’t bother Te’oma much. As a changeling, she’d had few friends throughout her life, and she didn’t see the need for them. She preferred to stand on her own at all times, as life had long since taught her that relying on anyone else would only lead to disastrous disappointments.
    The only person Te’oma had ever loved had been her daughter, and she’d done a poor job of caring for her. She’d left her to be raised by others, and they hadn’t protected the shapeshifting girl from the deadly fury of an angry mob.
    Although Te’oma had not spent much time in her daughter’s presence, she’d established a telepathic link with the girl from the first possible moment, and she’d kept in contact with the girl every day since. No matter how far apart Te'oma’s journeys placed them, she could always reach out and converse with her daughter’s mind.
    Te’oma was a thousand miles away the day her daughter died. She’d known that trouble had been brewing, but she had no way to reach the girl in time. Her daughter died with her screams echoing in Te’oma’s head.
    When the first rays of the sun broke over the lowest points of the Ironroot Mountains, Te’oma had been dreaming about her daughter. She woke to find that she’d been weeping in her sleep. This sort of thing happened to her far too often these days, which was yet another reason for her to sleep away from the others.
    "Are you hurt?” Espre had said.
    Te’oma had looked up to see the young elf peering at her over the bridge’s inside railing. She had known her face probably looked wet and puffy, but in a flash she’d morphed it back into its standard, unreadable state.
    "Never better,” she’d said. She’d stood and let her cloak unfurl around her, the leathery edges flapping in the breeze as it spread out into wide, batlike wings.
    "Wait,” Espre had said before the changeling could flap away.
    Te’oma had leaped into the air and turned about, her wings beating fast enough to keep her hovering the air before the bridge. Xalt, the warforged, had stood beside the girl, his hand on a knife tucked into his belt. Espre had kept her hands on the wheel, keeping the airship on an even keel.
    The elf-maid had stared up at the changeling for a moment then opened her mouth and said, "Thanks.”
    Te’oma had nodded and flung herself high into the air. Whirling her way around the barely restrained elemental ring of fire that encircled the ship, she peeled off into the sky and let the wind carry her away.
    The changeling spent more than an hour swirling and soaring through the sky on her own, always keeping the airship within sight. For a long while, she’d considered finding a tailwind and riding it to wherever it might take her, letting fate determine her path. She’d done that for much of her life, wandering wherever her whims led her, using her shapeshifting powers to slip in and out of places nearly unseen.
    Te’oma rarely made any sort of impression on those she left behind. She stayed in one place just long enough to grab some rest and steal whatever she needed, then moved on. Most of her victims never even realized they’d been robbed.
    After taking part in this strange adventure, in helping the others slay a dragon, she didn’t know if she could go back to that. She knew that if she left she’d likely never see the others again, never take part in the end of this amazing tale.
    Of course, she still had the telepathic bond she’d forged with Espre. Through