Son of the Dragon (The Netherworld Gate Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

head.
    “Khefir,” Jahre said respectfully. “I herewith present my offering, as we agreed.”
    Khefir reached up with his rotting hand and pulled back his hood. The young Talon ceased struggling against the vines which held him and froze instantly when he saw Khefir’s yellow skull. Black orbs looked down to Jahre and then to Talon’s father. Long, coarse white hair rustled in the evening wind behind Khefir’s skull. Khefir’s jaw bone freely moved and clicked as he spoke. “I accept your offering,” Khefir declared. He stretched forth his hand and pointed to Jahre’s knife. A black spark leapt from Khefir’s exposed index finger bone to the knife and the blood thereon began to glow. “See that you do not disturb me again, wicked elf,” Khefir threatened.
    A group of massive, black tendrils burst through the ground, heaving dirt and grass through the air as they reached up and wrapped around Talon’s father. Then, they pulled him into the dirt as easily as if he had been made of water. Afterward, Khefir returned through his portal and the black hole resealed.
    Jahre looked to the ground where Talon’s father had been and then he turned to face Talon. “Go home, boy,” Jahre said. The elf stretched his hand out and the green vines released their hold. Talon remained on the ground, petrified. Jahre approached and picked up the sword Talon had dropped. He pulled the blade from its sheath and examined it for a moment.
    “If this was all prearranged, you could have been nicer,” Talon’s spirit said to the ghost of Jahre.
    Jahre’s ghost nodded. “Perhaps, but I was never to see you again. I thought it better to teach you a lesson.” Jahre’s specter turned and narrowed its glowing eyes on Talon’s spirit. “The world was going to be a harsh place for you. I gave you the best advice I had at the time. If you realize now who I am, then you will understand that I gave the same advice to your father. Come, let’s finish watching. Reliving the memory in full will help you understand that I am not your enemy.” Jahre’s ghost pointed back to the scene and Talon begrudgingly turned his gaze toward it.
    The young Talon was frozen with fear. His eyes were wide, glued to the blade that the elf now held.
    The living memory of Jahre stepped closer to the young Talon and spoke. “I once told my son something, and now I will tell you the same thing,” Jahre hissed. “If you want to protect those you love, you will need to be faster, stronger, and smarter than your enemy.”
    Jahre flipped the sword over and plunged the point into the dirt next to Talon’s face. The blade sliced over the young boy’s cheekbone. Talon recoiled away quickly. He leapt to his feet and charged forward, hands outstretched for his father’s sword.
    “Faster, stronger, and smarter,” Jahre hissed again. Then he was gone.
    Talon ripped the sword free and hacked away at the air. He swung furiously until he had exhausted himself. His chest heaved for breath, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of the sword.
    “You were wrong,” Talon’s ghost said. “I still hate you.”
    Jahre nodded and snapped his fingers. The two of them were instantly back in the dark chamber where they had started.
    “No matter how many times you make me relive my parents’ deaths, I will always hate you. I, like Khefir, believe you to be a wicked elf. Whatever business you have with me, you can forget about it. I will not help you.”
    “One final vision then,” Jahre said.
    “Enough visions,” Talon replied. “I want nothing more to do with your meddling.”
    “You have no choice!” Jahre shouted with such force that the very core of Talon’s soul trembled and quaked. “I gave my word to my son – your father — that I would fight for you. On Ea’s grave, I will get through that thick, damaged skull of yours if it is the last thing I do.”
    A golden cord appeared from the darkness and wrapped itself around Talon’s spirit. The dead