Raveler: The Dark God Book 3 Read Online Free Page A

rooms.
    Harnock spoke some final words, then rose and came back to them. “We’re going to set a fast pace,” he said.
    “I’ll go as fast as I can, but you should know they took my weaves,” Talen said.
    “You don’t know how to multiply?”
    He reached for his Fire again, but it was sluggish. “I think the collar did something to me.”
    “Oh, that’s just grand,” Harnock said.
    “It’s probably just a lingering effect,” said River. “I’m sure it will fade with time.”
    Harnock pointed at Talen. “Don’t fall behind.”
    “What’s the plan?” River asked.
    “We’re going to chum the waters, and see what rises.”
    That did not sound auspicious, but Talen wasn’t about to press Harnock with questions.
    “And you,” Harnock said to Talen. “One false move, and I feed you to the wurms.”
    “Likewise,” Talen said, remembering his earlier promise, and immediately felt like an imbecile for saying it.
    Harnock narrowed his eyes at him, shook his head at River, then turned and set off at a jog.
    “Did we not promise him a mercy?” Talen asked.
    “We did.”
    “I think he’s going to kill me.”
    “Probably,” said River.
    “Maybe we should go it alone,” Talen suggested.
    “Get moving,” she said and gave him a shove.
    * * *
    They had to run to keep up with Harnock, and it was tricky watching both the trail ahead and keeping an eye on Nashrud, but he soon realized that problem was also a blessing because focusing on it kept his mind off his hunger and the smell of River’s and Harnock’s souls.
    They sped through the woods. However, their pace was evidently too slow, for after a few miles, Nashrud began to gain on them. Talen reported this to Harnock who only growled and lengthened his stride. Talen tried to reach for his Fire again, and this time was able to nudge it, but only just a little. However, he wasn’t the one to hold them back. River was the first to flag. Even though she could multiply, she was still weak from her poisonous brush with death, and she called for a stop. She bent over panting, resting her hands on her knees. Talen wiped his brow and put his hands on his hips, happy for the breather.
    Harnock doubled back. “We can’t rest,” he said.
    “She’s doing the best she can,” Talen said.
    “It’s not good enough,” Harnock said. He turned to River. “Give him your pack.”
    When she didn’t comply quickly enough, he pulled it from her and handed it to Talen.
    “Raise one arm,” he said to her.
    River raised her arm. Harnock grabbed her wrist and leg, then picked her up and laid her across his broad shoulders like she was a beam. He sniffed. “You’re in heat,” he said.
    “I . . .” River said, a bit taken aback. “I don’t know. I guess it could be that time.”
    “It’s that time,” he said and growled, then set off at a lope.
    In heat? Talen thought. Lords . Then he realized Harnock was disappearing fast. Talen reached out for his Fire, despairing that he was truly damaged, but this time his Fire responded. It didn’t leap to his command, but something was much better than nothing at all. Vigor slowly began to trickle into his limbs. He shouldered River’s pack and struck out after the two of them.
    Up to this point, he had trusted weaves to keep him safe. To limit him. But Nashrud had all of them now, so Talen was going to have to watch himself. He let his Fire slowly build and increased his pace to keep up with Harnock.
    All the while, he watched behind them with his roamling. It was so strange, and yet it felt natural. He experimented with this new part of himself—swimming, flying high and then diving back down. He moved through the tops of the trees, watched Nashrud and his men, and observed that the small flock of pale orange skir in the distance had moved closer.
    He ran up hill and down dale, the two packs bouncing on his shoulders, crossed a number of streams. And as he ran, his physical thirst grew. He told himself he’d