The Viper's Fangs (Book 2) Read Online Free

he brought out his old inkwell. It was a clumsy
thing, wrought badly from a single casting of iron, but it didn’t leak, and
that was important. He glanced at his desk, at the silver inkwell from the
Angst temple, one of several they had brought back with them. It was delicate,
finely wrought, but it leaked through the stopper when it was turned on its
side. He would have to leave it behind and take the old one. Perhaps he should
give it to Embril? A token of thanks?
    He set the dagger, stilettos, and pouch of gems on top of the
robe, and then brought out the small pouch. He frowned; he had forgotten about them.
They should have been burned months ago. No matter; he could take them with him
and burn them when they make camp. He smiled. It would give him a chance to
test his new spell.
    He turned the backpack over and a few crumbs and some lint
fell onto the stone floor. “I’ll need to get some food,” he said. “What else?”
he asked as he surveyed the items on his table. “Teffles’ book. The wand.” He
would have to tell them he was leaving so he could get them back. It was all he
could do to convince them to let him keep his scrolls in his room.
    Angus looked at the scrolls and frowned. Why hadn’t he
copied his scrolls into Teffles’ book? Half the pages were empty, and it would
make it easier to carry his spells around with him if they were in the book.
Scrolls took up so much more space. Because I was busy? he thought. It
was true; he had been busy. Because it isn’t really my book? Because these
are my scrolls?
    He had learned much from Teffles’ spells, and had even mastered
a few of them. He had practiced flying until he could soar alongside Ollis, the
Master of Air Magic. He had even been tutored by Festus, the Master of Fire
Magic, and now understood nearly all of the scrolls Voltari had given him when
he left. But there was so much more to learn, to remember, to understand, to
master.
    Then there was Embril. He sighed and half-smiled as he
thought of the kindness in her blue eye and the depths of her brown one, and how
they seemed to blur together when she smiled. She was such a delightful woman,
so knowledgeable and generous with her time. They had grown close over the
winter, and he was sure she hoped for more. But there was nothing more he could
give to her, not while the gaping hole in his mind was still there. How could
he truly be with her when he didn’t even know who he was? If only he could
remember what he was like before the spell in Voltari’s tower had gone so wrong!
If only he could remember who he was! It would be different if he didn’t know
the memories were still there, lurking in the shadows just beyond his grasp. But
the Truthseer had found those memories, had touched them—had touched him .
And her probing had left behind those tantalizing little snippets of memory
that hovered just out of reach. But only snippets, crystal clear bursts of
memory seconds long and completely disconnected from each other. Fragments of
an alien identity, fragments of him .
    He sighed. It would be easier without those memories. At
least then he could accept who he is and let who he was remain forgotten. But there
they were, and he couldn’t ignore them. He wouldn’t ignore them. Magic
had cost him his past, and magic would restore it. If he could find the
right spell. But his search thus far had been fruitless—at least in that
direction. His visits to the library had led him to Embril. He smiled, a deep,
sad smile. He would have to tell her he was leaving. He sighed again. It was
such a simple thing, leaving: put a few things in a pack, strap it to your
back, and start walking. But parting was such a heavy burden.
    He turned to his desk and looked at the pile of books
stacked on it. He would have to return them to the library before he left, and Embril
was sure to be there. He would tell her what he needed to then, there was no
point in putting it off any longer. He had hoped for more time, but