MudMan (The Golem Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free

least four or five hundred feet away, and moving quickly through the tunnelways, heading further into the Deeps, toward the Kobock high temple. One of them, anyway.
    Despite the fact that Levi’s stony heart still thudded out a mad beat in his too large chest, his face split into a grin. The High Temple was his final destination, too. Though the rank and file Kobocks were vastly entertaining to hunt, it was the High Shaman, the Mung Gal-kulom , he’d come to kill. But perhaps he’d get a chance to finish off the treacherous underling as well. With a grunt, he pulled the knife from his leg. Levi was not a creature of grand hopes and dreams, but, as he glanced at the pitted blade, he did find himself eager for a rematch with gimpy arm.
    First, though, he needed rest. He cast the blade aside with a flick of his fat hand, pulled himself over to the rubble pile, and set to work burying himself alive.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    THREE:
    Memories
     
    Levi dragged his body from beneath the pile of rubble an hour later. He stretched his flabby arms and prodded at both legs. Better, much better. He flexed his right hand, curling it into a fist, then shifting it into a blunt-faced sledgehammer. He had sensation again. He let the hand revert to its normal shape and rubbed at the knife wound on his left leg. Completely healed. The massive puncture in his right leg was tender to the touch, but still much improved. He’d packed both injuries full of dirt and rock before burying himself beneath a half-ton of stone, letting bedrock strength seep in while his ichor transformed the raw material into supple, living clay.
    Alchemic magic.
    He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and started forward, angling toward a clear, complete section of wall. He dragged his left hand along the wall’s surface as he walked, drawing out information with every second. Much had happened since he’d taken his short, but necessary, respite: for one, some semblance of order had been reestablished in the Kobock ranks. No longer was it every Kobo for itself. No longer was the subterranean cavern a madhouse of stampeding feet running every which way. Half of the remaining creatures had withdrawn to the High Temple, joining with their unholy shaman, Levi’s real target, barricading themselves behind the temple’s heavy iron gates.
    The other half had broken up into hunting parties—four groups of eight—each scouring the intricate and sprawling tunnels, searching for Levi. One of the parties drew uncomfortably close, circling in even as Levi moved, only minutes away at their current speed. For a moment, Levi considered abandoning this expedition altogether, chalking the whole thing up as a failure. It would be a simple task to avoid the hunters, jump ship, and return another night to finish the work, when conditions were more favorable.
    He paused, drumming his fingers on the wall, mind thoroughly divided over the prospect. Levi was not dumb, but he was not overly fond of surprises, and thinking on his feet was no easy task for the Mudman.
    Still, he reasoned, it was better to put this thing to rest good and proper.
    He really did want to curb his gluttonous desire for death, and he knew if he left the work undone, he’d be compelled to come back and mop up later. If this was to be his last splurge, as he swore it would be, he needed closure. Without closure, without completion, he wouldn’t be able to help himself. Wouldn’t be able to control the urge. Besides, he’d already fallen off the wagon—he’d have to give back his three-month sobriety token at his Thursday meeting—so it was best to get it all out of his system while he had an opportunity.
    One last hooray, then he’d start again. And he’d do better next time.
    Repent and purge, that was the best way.
    With his mind made up, Levi lurched into motion. His tree-trunk legs churned, the ground rumbled at his passing, and his fingers brushed over the wall, guiding him as he moved. The