The Dark Warden (Book 6) Read Online Free Page A

so damned many of the things. Sooner or later they would be overwhelmed, or the fighting would draw the attention of a more powerful creature. Ridmark destroyed another skeleton, the bones bouncing across the floor of the valley. Nearly a hundred skeletons had closed around them, and a score of the mummified corpses had risen from the earth. They could not fight such numbers. He had to…
    Then, all at once, the battle was over.
    The blue flames winked out, and the skeletons collapsed into piles of dry bones. The mummified orcs sank into the ground, the earth closing around them. Ridmark turned, the axe trembling in his fist, but peace had fallen over the valley. The others lowered their weapons, looking around in bewilderment. 
    “Is anyone wounded?” called Calliande.
    “Did you break the spell?” said Ridmark.
    Calliande shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. I was focused on holding the spell over the weapons. Morigna?”
    “I fear not,” said Morigna. “My magic gives me command over earth and beasts, not other spells.”
    “An echo,” said Mara, the blue fire fading from her eyes and skin. 
    They looked at her.
    “The spell was an echo of something that happened here long ago,” said Mara. “And echoes fade. We…just reached the end of that particular echo.”
    “But echoes repeat,” said Gavin, wiping sweat from his forehead, “over and over again.”
    Ridmark looked at the stream and saw faint wisps of white mist gathering over the waters. 
    The spell was repeating itself once more.
    “It’s starting again,” said Mara. 
    “Run!” said Ridmark, snatching up his staff. “To the northern lip of the valley. Quickly!” 
    They ran across the valley, kicking aside the bones. Ridmark raced over the stream, jumping from stone to stone, and the chill of the Torn Hills deepened. He wondered how many thousands of times those undead orcs had been raised by the ancient spell. He wondered how many victims they had claimed over the centuries. 
    Best not to join their number. 
    They reached the northern edge of the valley. Ridmark turned as the others joined him, staff in his left hand and axe in his right. He expected the shades of the long-dead dark elves to reappear, the undead to rise once more. 
    But the mist faded away, and the undead did not rise again. 
    “What happened?” said Kharlacht. “Why didn’t the undead attack?”
    Calliande frowned, one hand raised, a white gleam shining around her fingers.
    “I think,” said Calliande, “I think the echo only responds to a living mortal. It was dormant until we drew near.”
    “The other patches of mist,” said Caius, looking at the rocky hills to the north. “Are those further echoes?”
    “Maybe,” said Calliande. “Or they could just be mist.”
    “My Sight can give us some warning,” said Mara. 
    “That will have to do,” said Ridmark. “We should keep moving. Stay on guard, all of you. It’s another five days to Urd Morlemoch, and it will only get more dangerous from here.” 
    Of course, the dangers of the Torn Hills were nothing compared to the perils within the walls of Urd Morlemoch. 
    Because the Warden waited within Urd Morlemoch.

Chapter 2 - The Sorceress and the Exile
     
    They traveled another ten miles into the Torn Hills before Ridmark found a satisfactory campsite. 
    The crumbled stump of a round tower filled the top of a rocky hill. The hill offered a commanding view of the nearby ravines, while the crumbled tower was a defensible location. Ridmark examined the base of the hill, but saw no tracks leading to or from the ruined tower. Calliande’s spells and Mara’s Sight detected no sign of any spells or magical echoes upon the ruins. 
    It would be a safe place for a camp.
    At least, as safe as anything could be this close to Urd Morlemoch. 
    “We should do without a fire,” said Morigna, slipping off her pack and leaning it against the wall. “The light would be visible for miles.” 
    “Alas,