Twice Drowned Dragon (The Gryphonpike Chronicles Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

way. Makha had been a mercenary with a reputable company until she met Azyrin, but whenever asked about that story, all they did was smile at each other and change the subject. Even Rahiel had her secrets. She was from one of the noble families in Glassnesse and all I knew is that we were heading that way because, with the acquisition of the black pearl she wore around her neck, she could finally pay off a debt she owed.
    “Hey, dripbats, if you two are done cavorting, we’re getting ready to leave in here,” Makha called out to us from the steps.
    “Coming,” Drake answered. He sheathed his dagger and nodded to me. “We’ll do this again. You’ve got good speed and range with those long arms of yours. Might have to put a rapier in your hand one of these days.”
    I shrugged as casually as I could and turned away. Don’t push it, human. Learning to use a dagger for emergency situations in a fight was one thing. I wasn’t ready to walk away from my beloved bow just yet.
    “What was that?” Makha asked Drake as we walked by her.
    “She wanted to learn to handle her dagger better, I think.” Drake shrugged.
    “Don’t go putting one of your bull-stickers in her hand. We need her bow skills and she’s too good to become a ponce like you.”
    “What? You gonna give her one of those lumps of slow iron you call a sword?”
    “She’s too skinny to wield a proper blade,” Makha said as she eyed me.
    I snorted and turned, holding out Thorn. Go on, muscles, string my bow and pull it . I waved the bow, urging her to take with my eyes.
    “All right, elf.” Makha took the bow and tried to string it. She set the lower limb against her boot and pulled. Thorn didn’t even bend. Makha looked up at me as though trying to read my face and determine if some trick were being played here. She stepped through the string, attempting to do it that way. No luck as Thorn bent a little but not enough for her to slide the string into its notch.
    I took my bow back and set the limb against my foot, stringing it easily. Then I handed it back and made a pulling motion.
    “What tricks are you up to, elf?” Makha muttered as she pulled the string and couldn’t get past a half pull. Her fair skin flushed and she let out an angry breath as her efforts failed. “Got to be magic.”
    “It’s not magic,” Rahiel said as she settled her skirts from her perch on Bill’s back. “I checked if she had any magical items when we first met, remember? That bow is probably some sort of elfcraft, but there is no magic on it.”
    “It’s definitely unique wood,” Drake added. “I’ve seen it stop a sword strike the way you’d expect a staff would.”
    Makha handed Thorn back to me, and I pulled it to full draw before unstringing it and turning away with a smile. Watch who you call skinny, human .
    “Stronger than she looks, that’s for sure,” Makha muttered behind me.
    Nabbe had reluctantly agreed to show us the way to the orchard, his desire to have his story confirmed warring visibly with his fear of encountering the dragon again. It wasn’t a long walk, and most of it was down hill through fairly dry terrain. We crossed a couple shallow creeks and then the bog cypress and willows thinned out, turning to apple and cherry trees that were likely older than the monastery on the hill.
    “Through there, you can see where the old road lay.” Nabbe pointed and then looked around nervously. The orchard lay still in the morning light, no insect noise or birds flitting between the branches loaded with ripening fruit. Something menacing lurked here, to quiet the wood so.
    “Go,” Azyrin said gently. “We will find way.”
    Nabbe needed no other prodding. He turned and half-ran back up the hill toward the monastery, his robe flapping with his haste.
    I took the lead, Thorn strung and ready, as Fade materialized beside me and we headed deeper into the huge trees.
    The road was overgrown with hedge grasses and tangles of wildflowers. The