The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price Read Online Free Page A

“It calls to you.”
    “You’re wrong.”
    “And you lie. I know what the stone is. Where it’s from. What it can do.”
    “Drop the act, Taren,” I said, faking disinterest even as my unease grew. “Whatever con you’re playing, it won’t work. You’re Kaelish, not Shinree. Your kind can’t use magic, or sense it, which makes this stone nothing more than a chunk of black rock to you. So what do you want with it?”
    “I could ask you the same thing. You gave up channeling magic a long time ago. Yet, you keep a piece of temptation on a string around your neck. So, what do
you
want with it?”
    “I want you to get your filthy hands off it.”
    Smirking, Taren lowered the knife to my chest and the obsidian went with it. “What’s it been, Troy? Ten years since you last cast a spell?”
    “Something like that.” Groping in the sludge, I stretched my arm out further and finally felt steel at the end of my reach. Gradually, I tugged it closer.
    “Are we pretending to forget? Or wasn’t your reason for quitting memorable enough?” Taren’s eyes tightened and she grinned slightly. It was a cruel, devious expression that went well with her next words. “Slaughtering all those men. Killing your own commander. What was her name again, Rella’s whore of a Queen?” Taren tilted her head pensively. “Oh, yes…Aylagar.”
    My temper spiked. “That’s enough.”
    “Personally, I don’t understand what you saw in the little, dark savage, but I do like the way you repaid her attentions. A Queen shares her bed with you, a lowly Shinree, and you drain the life out of her with magic…along with several thousand of her soldiers.” Taren’s grin morphed into a proud smile. “It really was a brilliant strategy. Wipe out all the fighters on both sides so there’s no one left to fight. I love it.”
    “That wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.”
    “Well you should have. Rella and Langor had been at each other’s throats for so long the only way to bring the dogs to heel was to slaughter them.”
    I shook my head at her flippancy. “Guess you’re not the sentimental sort.”
    “But I can see you are. It’s kind of cute, really. But,” she bent and brushed my lips with hers, “how about I take your mind off all this unpleasantness for a while? And in return,” slowly and meaningfully, she ground her body against mine, “you overlook that little bounty King Sarin placed on my head back in Kael.”
    “Which one?”
    “All of them.”
    “Am I supposed to forget about the family you murdered as well?”
    She flashed a wicked grinned. “Which one?”
    “I’m not bargaining with you, Taren.” Beneath the bog, I tightened my grip the sword. “You’re going back to Kael, one way or another.”
    “Come on, Troy,” she whined. “It’s a fair deal. It’s been a long, lonely three months with nothing between my legs but the back of a filthy horse. And don’t tell me you aren’t interested,” she snaked a hand down the front of me, “because I can feel otherwise.”
    “I’ll live. In fact, I’ll probably live a lot longer.” I moved my weapon toward the surface. “Now, use the knife, bitch. Or get off me.”
    Taren frowned. “Here I thought you’d be charming, being a war hero and all.”
    “I’m not a hero. I never was.”
    I expected another crude quip, which would be her last; my sword was ready, just below the top, watery layer of the marsh. But instead of more sarcasm or another bribe, Taren’s expression went strangely blank. Her voice took on an odd, husky, almost mannish tone, and she said, “It’s good you understand that. A magic user is far too selfish a creature to ever be a hero.”
    I watched her a moment. Her body was completely still. She wasn’t even blinking. “Taren?” She didn’t answer and a tingle of warning streaked across my shoulder blades. “Taren?”
    Abruptly, she flinched. The knife in her hand jumped against my throat,