Soul of Dragons Read Online Free Page B
hand.
“Get out of my way,” said Molly, “or die. I don't care which.” Corvad would have simply slaughtered them all, the woman and the infant included. But Molly did not kill, unless necessary.
Save for Mazael Cravenlock.
“What do you want?” said Rachel.
“Lucan Mandragon,” said Molly. “He's coming with me.”
“No,” said Rachel.
Molly looked at her and grinned. “Do you really think you can stop me? And do you really want to see your brother's men, your husband's men, die to save one wretched wizard? One who turned himself into a monster?”
Doubt flickered across Rachel’s face. Molly heard noise from the courtyard, shouts and clattering boots. Mazael and his woman had sent men to stop her. She was out of time.
“Last chance,” said Molly. “Get out of my way. Or die in front of your son.”
Rachel scowled, but sidestepped. The wounded men hesitated, and then did the same.
“Wise,” said Molly, and walked to the cot.
She looked upon Lucan Mandragon, the Dragon's Shadow, the youngest son of Lord Richard Mandragon the Dragonslayer.
He looked terrible.
In fact, he didn't even look human any more, with his gray skin, his deformed and bulging limbs, the tumors dotting his face and chest. His breath came hard and shallow, and crimson light flickered beneath his eyelids.
He looked rather like one of Corvad's infused Malrags.
Molly's grandfather had told her that Lucan tried to wield Demonsouled power, only to have that power devour him. The fool hadn't realized that Demonsouled power destroyed all who wielded it.
As Molly herself knew, only too well.
Men raced into the ruined tower, swords drawn.
“Lady Rachel,” said Molly. “Tell your brother. Tell him that I'm going to kill him for what he has done.”
Burning power welled up within Molly, and she put her hand on Lucan's feverish shoulder and walked into the shadows.
She reappeared outside the castle wall, among Corvad's Malrags. Lucan fell at her feet with a thump, still unconscious. Dizziness washed through Molly, and she took a moment to catch her balance. Walking herself through the shadows was not hard. Taking someone with her took a great deal of strength.
The Malrags edged closer, and Molly made herself stand upright. Any sign of weakness, she knew, and the Malrags would turn on her.
Corvad approached. “You've returned, sister?”
And she knew what Corvad might do if she showed weakness to him.
“Plainly,” said Molly. She nudged Lucan with the toe of her boot. “Here’s what you desired, brother. Though why you want such a twisted creature, I have no idea.”
He smiled. “Twisted? Yes. That is precisely why I want him.” He pointed. “You two. Carry him. And allow no harm to come to him. I need him alive, if only for a little while.”
Two of the infused Malrags obeyed, scooping up Lucan like a sack of grain.
“Come,” said Corvad. “We have what we need. The sooner we are gone from here, the better.”
“What of the Malrags?” said Molly.
Corvad glanced at the ruined castle. “Easily replaced.”
Molly nodded, taking one last look at the castle. At the blue flame of Mazael Cravenlock's sword. She yearned to walk the shadows to the wall and kill him.
But she was not yet ready.
Mazael would pay, though. He would pay for everything he done, for the pain her mother had endured, for the pain she had endured.
For what he had done to Nicholas.
Once she was ready.
Molly turned and followed Corvad to the north.
Chapter 3 - Wolf Hunt
They were winning.
Mazael fought alongside the others, cutting down every zuvembie that scaled the wall. Against men with weapons of normal steel, the zuvembies were deadly. But facing men wielding blades sheathed in Lion's fire, the zuvembies were not so formidable. The archers loosed flight after flight of arrows, killing and wounding the Malrags, and the men in the courtyard made short work of any that broke inside.
Then
“Get out of my way,” said Molly, “or die. I don't care which.” Corvad would have simply slaughtered them all, the woman and the infant included. But Molly did not kill, unless necessary.
Save for Mazael Cravenlock.
“What do you want?” said Rachel.
“Lucan Mandragon,” said Molly. “He's coming with me.”
“No,” said Rachel.
Molly looked at her and grinned. “Do you really think you can stop me? And do you really want to see your brother's men, your husband's men, die to save one wretched wizard? One who turned himself into a monster?”
Doubt flickered across Rachel’s face. Molly heard noise from the courtyard, shouts and clattering boots. Mazael and his woman had sent men to stop her. She was out of time.
“Last chance,” said Molly. “Get out of my way. Or die in front of your son.”
Rachel scowled, but sidestepped. The wounded men hesitated, and then did the same.
“Wise,” said Molly, and walked to the cot.
She looked upon Lucan Mandragon, the Dragon's Shadow, the youngest son of Lord Richard Mandragon the Dragonslayer.
He looked terrible.
In fact, he didn't even look human any more, with his gray skin, his deformed and bulging limbs, the tumors dotting his face and chest. His breath came hard and shallow, and crimson light flickered beneath his eyelids.
He looked rather like one of Corvad's infused Malrags.
Molly's grandfather had told her that Lucan tried to wield Demonsouled power, only to have that power devour him. The fool hadn't realized that Demonsouled power destroyed all who wielded it.
As Molly herself knew, only too well.
Men raced into the ruined tower, swords drawn.
“Lady Rachel,” said Molly. “Tell your brother. Tell him that I'm going to kill him for what he has done.”
Burning power welled up within Molly, and she put her hand on Lucan's feverish shoulder and walked into the shadows.
She reappeared outside the castle wall, among Corvad's Malrags. Lucan fell at her feet with a thump, still unconscious. Dizziness washed through Molly, and she took a moment to catch her balance. Walking herself through the shadows was not hard. Taking someone with her took a great deal of strength.
The Malrags edged closer, and Molly made herself stand upright. Any sign of weakness, she knew, and the Malrags would turn on her.
Corvad approached. “You've returned, sister?”
And she knew what Corvad might do if she showed weakness to him.
“Plainly,” said Molly. She nudged Lucan with the toe of her boot. “Here’s what you desired, brother. Though why you want such a twisted creature, I have no idea.”
He smiled. “Twisted? Yes. That is precisely why I want him.” He pointed. “You two. Carry him. And allow no harm to come to him. I need him alive, if only for a little while.”
Two of the infused Malrags obeyed, scooping up Lucan like a sack of grain.
“Come,” said Corvad. “We have what we need. The sooner we are gone from here, the better.”
“What of the Malrags?” said Molly.
Corvad glanced at the ruined castle. “Easily replaced.”
Molly nodded, taking one last look at the castle. At the blue flame of Mazael Cravenlock's sword. She yearned to walk the shadows to the wall and kill him.
But she was not yet ready.
Mazael would pay, though. He would pay for everything he done, for the pain her mother had endured, for the pain she had endured.
For what he had done to Nicholas.
Once she was ready.
Molly turned and followed Corvad to the north.
Chapter 3 - Wolf Hunt
They were winning.
Mazael fought alongside the others, cutting down every zuvembie that scaled the wall. Against men with weapons of normal steel, the zuvembies were deadly. But facing men wielding blades sheathed in Lion's fire, the zuvembies were not so formidable. The archers loosed flight after flight of arrows, killing and wounding the Malrags, and the men in the courtyard made short work of any that broke inside.
Then