Read Online A Sky of Spells (Book #9 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Morgan Rice
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and Gwendolyn flinched, sure it was
Bronson’s death cry.
But as she opened her eyes,
she was shocked to see it was not Bronson who shrieked, but McCloud. He stood
there, missing an arm. Thor stood over him, sword out, having just chopped off
his arm, right before he could bring down his sword on Bronson.
“That’s for Gwendolyn,” Thor
said to McCloud.
As McCloud sank to his
knees, grasping his arm stump, shrieking, Bronson rose and faced him, beside
Thor, the two of them staring him down.
“Justice is served, father,”
Bronson said. “You took my hand. Now yours is taken.”
“I would’ve taken both of
your hands if I could,” McCloud snarled.
Bronson shook his head,
leaned back, and kicked his father in the face, and he went flying back, his
head slamming on the ground.
“You won’t be taking anyone’s
hand anymore,” Bronson replied.
His father lay there, groaning,
and Bronson reached down and retrieved his sword from the dirt.
“He’s mine to kill,” Bronson
said to Thor.
Thor nodded in respect and
stepped aside, as Bronson stood over his father, preparing to kill him.
Gwen stepped forward, past
all the men, past the stares of all the soldiers, and came up beside Bronson and
laid a hand on his wrist.
Bronson turned to her.
“Ask not for compassion for him,
my lady,” Bronson said.
“I do not,” Gwendolyn said. “I’ve
come for vengeance.”
Bronson looked back at her,
surprised.
“It was my honor that he
took,” Gwendolyn continued, “and I must set wrongs right. Justice must be done
by my hand. Not by yours.”
Bronson looked at her long
and hard, then finally understood. He nodded and stepped aside.
“Kill the man who haunts your
dreams,” Bronson said. “Just as he haunted mine my entire life. Once he is
dead, may both our dreams vanish.”
Gwendolyn took the sword
with both hands, gripping the hilt, squeezing tight. Slowly, she raised it high
overhead. Never before had she killed a man, up close, who had lay there,
prone. Her hands trembled, even though she knew justice demanded it.
She felt the blood coursing
through her veins. The blood of the MacGils; of seven generations of kings; the
blood of a ruler of a great people; the blood of someone charged to set wrongs
right. She felt an overriding need to rid the world of an evil that never should
have existed in the first place.
“You won’t do it,” McCloud
snarled up at her. “You’re just like my boy. You don’t have the nerve.”
Gwendolyn breathed deep and
thrust the sword down, straight down, into McCloud’s heart, piercing it. The
sword continued, through his body, into the frozen ground.
McCloud’s eyes bulged open with
a look of shock, as he stared up at her in agony and surprise. He remained that
way for several seconds, frozen.
Then finally he fell
backwards, limp. Dead.
Gwendolyn extracted the
bloody sword and held it out before her, as she turned and faced her people.
She raised it high.
As one, her entire army, all
of her people, knelt before her, and shouted:
“GWENDOLYN!”
CHAPTER TEN
Thor rode on the back of Mycoples,
Gwen behind him, clutching his waist. The two of them soared high above the Ring,
circling through all the territories, taking it all in from above. They cut through
the cool winter air, through parting clouds, but Thor did not feel the cold.
All he felt was Gwen, her hands clutching him from behind, holding him tight, and
moment by moment, he felt himself restored. For the first time in as long as he
could remember, he felt at peace again. He felt that all was right in the world,
and he never wanted this moment to end. Gwendolyn behind him, riding Mycoples, Andronicus
dead, Thor felt a sense of completeness that he had always hoped for.
They dove down low, nearly skimming
the tops of the trees, taking in all the devastation of the Ring, entire lands
covered with the charred corpses of Empire. Thor could see how hard at work Mycoples
and Ralibar had been,
Bronson’s death cry.
But as she opened her eyes,
she was shocked to see it was not Bronson who shrieked, but McCloud. He stood
there, missing an arm. Thor stood over him, sword out, having just chopped off
his arm, right before he could bring down his sword on Bronson.
“That’s for Gwendolyn,” Thor
said to McCloud.
As McCloud sank to his
knees, grasping his arm stump, shrieking, Bronson rose and faced him, beside
Thor, the two of them staring him down.
“Justice is served, father,”
Bronson said. “You took my hand. Now yours is taken.”
“I would’ve taken both of
your hands if I could,” McCloud snarled.
Bronson shook his head,
leaned back, and kicked his father in the face, and he went flying back, his
head slamming on the ground.
“You won’t be taking anyone’s
hand anymore,” Bronson replied.
His father lay there, groaning,
and Bronson reached down and retrieved his sword from the dirt.
“He’s mine to kill,” Bronson
said to Thor.
Thor nodded in respect and
stepped aside, as Bronson stood over his father, preparing to kill him.
Gwen stepped forward, past
all the men, past the stares of all the soldiers, and came up beside Bronson and
laid a hand on his wrist.
Bronson turned to her.
“Ask not for compassion for him,
my lady,” Bronson said.
“I do not,” Gwendolyn said. “I’ve
come for vengeance.”
Bronson looked back at her,
surprised.
“It was my honor that he
took,” Gwendolyn continued, “and I must set wrongs right. Justice must be done
by my hand. Not by yours.”
Bronson looked at her long
and hard, then finally understood. He nodded and stepped aside.
“Kill the man who haunts your
dreams,” Bronson said. “Just as he haunted mine my entire life. Once he is
dead, may both our dreams vanish.”
Gwendolyn took the sword
with both hands, gripping the hilt, squeezing tight. Slowly, she raised it high
overhead. Never before had she killed a man, up close, who had lay there,
prone. Her hands trembled, even though she knew justice demanded it.
She felt the blood coursing
through her veins. The blood of the MacGils; of seven generations of kings; the
blood of a ruler of a great people; the blood of someone charged to set wrongs
right. She felt an overriding need to rid the world of an evil that never should
have existed in the first place.
“You won’t do it,” McCloud
snarled up at her. “You’re just like my boy. You don’t have the nerve.”
Gwendolyn breathed deep and
thrust the sword down, straight down, into McCloud’s heart, piercing it. The
sword continued, through his body, into the frozen ground.
McCloud’s eyes bulged open with
a look of shock, as he stared up at her in agony and surprise. He remained that
way for several seconds, frozen.
Then finally he fell
backwards, limp. Dead.
Gwendolyn extracted the
bloody sword and held it out before her, as she turned and faced her people.
She raised it high.
As one, her entire army, all
of her people, knelt before her, and shouted:
“GWENDOLYN!”
CHAPTER TEN
Thor rode on the back of Mycoples,
Gwen behind him, clutching his waist. The two of them soared high above the Ring,
circling through all the territories, taking it all in from above. They cut through
the cool winter air, through parting clouds, but Thor did not feel the cold.
All he felt was Gwen, her hands clutching him from behind, holding him tight, and
moment by moment, he felt himself restored. For the first time in as long as he
could remember, he felt at peace again. He felt that all was right in the world,
and he never wanted this moment to end. Gwendolyn behind him, riding Mycoples, Andronicus
dead, Thor felt a sense of completeness that he had always hoped for.
They dove down low, nearly skimming
the tops of the trees, taking in all the devastation of the Ring, entire lands
covered with the charred corpses of Empire. Thor could see how hard at work Mycoples
and Ralibar had been,
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