Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Jeffrey Quyle
Grange escaped the older apprentice’s spell.
"Watch this," Grange shouted, and he began to declaim in the ancient language of power, feeling an uncanny confidence that he had never known before.
"Cymerwch pawb ar y llwyfan gyda drwg yn eu calon, ac yn erbyn y nenfwd, os gwelwch yn dda, fy ffrindiau," he carefully implored the power while pandemonium erupted on the stage.
As he watched, the energy that glowed around him suddenly swirled like a miniature cyclone, then flew away in dozens of thin streams of power that targeted the red-banded mercenaries on the stage, as well as the prince and Eli. The power lifted them all and threw them all upwards against the ceiling, causing them to strike the frescoes overhead forcefully.
Brielle looked at him and laughed. "At last! You've done it. You've broken through, and you're ready for the next stage."
The people in the audience were shrieking with fear and astonishment at the sudden displays of violence and power, so far removed from the festive event they had expected to enjoy.
"This has been quite an experience, but my time in this guise has come to an end," Brielle said. "And though you haven't used our practiced skills, you're going to be able to rely on using your weapons in the battles ahead. I'll give you another gift," she told him.
"What are you saying?" Grange asked, his pulse still racing, his heart pounding from the energy and the power. He couldn’t follow her comments.
"I'm not saying - I'm doing," Brielle answered. She gave him a grin, then reached out her hand in the air and wiggled her fingers. The knife that had killed Maurin shivered free from his inert body and flew through the air to her, its blade red with blood.
The handle of the knife barely touched her fingertips before it angled away and flew towards Grange. But in the fraction of a second that it contacted Brielle, a bright red light flashed where she stood, and she was gone. The crowd screamed again, and Grange grasped the knife handle as it reached him.
I am here for you , he heard Brielle's voice. It came from the knife.
And a shining, faceted red jewel was embedded in the knife handle.
Grange stood motionless on the stage, staring at the knife in one hand and the sword in the other. They were the jewels, serving him - and perhaps serving themselves - ready for battle, the great battle that they were grooming him for. He was lost in thought and wonder, until a motion in the periphery of his vision caught his attention.
It was Becca, who had crossed through the turmoil in the banquet hall to reach him. She stood down on the floor below the stage, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes.
You are not meant for her , the jewels intoned.
"Are you alright?" she asked. "What did you do? Will they ever come down?" she glanced up at the traitors who were still plastered against the ceiling.
"Is Grace okay, my lord?" Becca asked without waiting for an answer.
"I, let me check," he was surrounded by tied up, trussed up captives on the stage. He needed to release them all, he realized. He walked over to where Grace laid on the wooden floor. He slid the sword back into its scabbard as he knelt and lifted the blindfold from the wide-eyed girl, and he used the bloody red knife to cut the bonds on her hands and feet, then pulled the gag from her mouth.
"You're covered in the power!" she exclaimed. "What did you do? I heard you delivering an incantation - it must have worked." She glanced up and saw the men overhead, then gave a small shriek. "Look at that! Are they alive?"
"They are for now," Grange said grimly. "Help me to set the others free," he told her, and together they quickly released the rest of the captives on the stage.
Chapter 3
"It's been a terrible day," Lord Bartar said to Princess Aubrey a month later as the two of them ate dinner alone with her father in a small, dining room in
"Watch this," Grange shouted, and he began to declaim in the ancient language of power, feeling an uncanny confidence that he had never known before.
"Cymerwch pawb ar y llwyfan gyda drwg yn eu calon, ac yn erbyn y nenfwd, os gwelwch yn dda, fy ffrindiau," he carefully implored the power while pandemonium erupted on the stage.
As he watched, the energy that glowed around him suddenly swirled like a miniature cyclone, then flew away in dozens of thin streams of power that targeted the red-banded mercenaries on the stage, as well as the prince and Eli. The power lifted them all and threw them all upwards against the ceiling, causing them to strike the frescoes overhead forcefully.
Brielle looked at him and laughed. "At last! You've done it. You've broken through, and you're ready for the next stage."
The people in the audience were shrieking with fear and astonishment at the sudden displays of violence and power, so far removed from the festive event they had expected to enjoy.
"This has been quite an experience, but my time in this guise has come to an end," Brielle said. "And though you haven't used our practiced skills, you're going to be able to rely on using your weapons in the battles ahead. I'll give you another gift," she told him.
"What are you saying?" Grange asked, his pulse still racing, his heart pounding from the energy and the power. He couldn’t follow her comments.
"I'm not saying - I'm doing," Brielle answered. She gave him a grin, then reached out her hand in the air and wiggled her fingers. The knife that had killed Maurin shivered free from his inert body and flew through the air to her, its blade red with blood.
The handle of the knife barely touched her fingertips before it angled away and flew towards Grange. But in the fraction of a second that it contacted Brielle, a bright red light flashed where she stood, and she was gone. The crowd screamed again, and Grange grasped the knife handle as it reached him.
I am here for you , he heard Brielle's voice. It came from the knife.
And a shining, faceted red jewel was embedded in the knife handle.
Grange stood motionless on the stage, staring at the knife in one hand and the sword in the other. They were the jewels, serving him - and perhaps serving themselves - ready for battle, the great battle that they were grooming him for. He was lost in thought and wonder, until a motion in the periphery of his vision caught his attention.
It was Becca, who had crossed through the turmoil in the banquet hall to reach him. She stood down on the floor below the stage, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes.
You are not meant for her , the jewels intoned.
"Are you alright?" she asked. "What did you do? Will they ever come down?" she glanced up at the traitors who were still plastered against the ceiling.
"Is Grace okay, my lord?" Becca asked without waiting for an answer.
"I, let me check," he was surrounded by tied up, trussed up captives on the stage. He needed to release them all, he realized. He walked over to where Grace laid on the wooden floor. He slid the sword back into its scabbard as he knelt and lifted the blindfold from the wide-eyed girl, and he used the bloody red knife to cut the bonds on her hands and feet, then pulled the gag from her mouth.
"You're covered in the power!" she exclaimed. "What did you do? I heard you delivering an incantation - it must have worked." She glanced up and saw the men overhead, then gave a small shriek. "Look at that! Are they alive?"
"They are for now," Grange said grimly. "Help me to set the others free," he told her, and together they quickly released the rest of the captives on the stage.
Chapter 3
"It's been a terrible day," Lord Bartar said to Princess Aubrey a month later as the two of them ate dinner alone with her father in a small, dining room in
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