Read Online Dusk Falling (Book 1) by Keri L. Salyers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Keri L. Salyers
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turned at the yell of another impending attack. She couldn’t afford the cost of energy to use a shield to protect herself while she prepared a counterattack of her own. Two spells at once was a difficult task to endure but not impossible. Since her attack spell was water in element and the shield spell air it was a feasible, if draining, undertaking.
Aya began to gather up her strength to re-cast her ice spell.
As the man bore down upon her and her hand was barely beginning to chill she knew she did not have enough time to adequately prepare. Blade poised to strike her down, Aya could hear him chuckle from behind the cloth wrap around his face.
In a flash of gray fur, he was gone. Agemeer bore the man to the ground, sword arm held in his vice-like maw. The Wulf growled and tore at his arm until he dropped the weapon. Despite the man’s trashing and pummeling with his balled fist, Agemeer would not relinquish his grip nor could the man break it.
The next cloaked attacker took her spell much the same as the last, fell and remained down. But there were too many. And no longer did they attack one at a time.
Aya dodged to the left as a blade came whizzing by and then back as another took its place. Tripping on her own feet as she sought to get out of the way of his wild swinging, Aya fell sprawling. Instinct told her to roll to one side. Just in time as a blade clove into the ground where her head had been, embedding deep. She looked up. And then past the cloaked man as something caught her eye.
A figure dressed in unconventional pristine white. In the tree high above. He stood almost casually with one hand on the trees trunk. He surveyed the battle calmly with eyes that were unmistakably-
Aya rolled to her feet as the attacker sought to pin her to the ground with a straight downward thrust. As his blade bit into the hard-packed soil and he sought to dislodge it, Serrtin barreled into him, shoulder first. There was an audible snapping sound and the man cried out as he sailed flying into the greenery. Coming up weaponless and without the use of one of his arms kept him from rejoining the fray but he remained wary, his dark eyes ready to exploit any opportunity no matter the painful injury. One of his fellows reached his side surrounded by two others, one clutching gingerly at a leg that could not support his full weight.
Serrtin glanced over at Aya to ascertain the mage’s condition. Dirty and a bit scraggled but no worse for wear, the Bren wore a pinched expression of alertness. Agemeer joined them, a snarl coming from deep within his throat. A light wound was evident on one of his forefeet, the crimson blood standing out starkly against his fur.
Five more joined the dark cloaked men in the process of regrouping for the next round. A quick survey proved that was the last of them, their companions were scattered around the clearing unconscious or worse. Eight to three. But Aya was not a close-range fighter and Agemeer had no place in such a battle- he knew how to put the Wulf’s carnal qualities to good use but with such limited spacing, it would be unwise. That left just Serrtin. Eight to one; Serrtin had seen odds less in her favor. And she always enjoyed a good fight.
The saurian stepped forward, tired of looking at them. “Who are you and what do you want with us?”
Her question was met by silent glares and impudent gestures with bare steel.
“Well, then, if you won’t talk now, maybe your tongues will loosen after I’m through with you. If I let you live.” That much said, Serrtin leapt at the first hooded man, flamberge swung low. The battle began once more.
Aya shuffled back. She could not risk a spell that might accidentally injure or impede her friend for Serrtin was moving too fast to single out one individual. All seemed intent on taking the towering warrior down.
She dodged and blocked, spun and slashed, her wavy-edged blade carving a bloody path. Her movements were fluid for one of her size and
Aya began to gather up her strength to re-cast her ice spell.
As the man bore down upon her and her hand was barely beginning to chill she knew she did not have enough time to adequately prepare. Blade poised to strike her down, Aya could hear him chuckle from behind the cloth wrap around his face.
In a flash of gray fur, he was gone. Agemeer bore the man to the ground, sword arm held in his vice-like maw. The Wulf growled and tore at his arm until he dropped the weapon. Despite the man’s trashing and pummeling with his balled fist, Agemeer would not relinquish his grip nor could the man break it.
The next cloaked attacker took her spell much the same as the last, fell and remained down. But there were too many. And no longer did they attack one at a time.
Aya dodged to the left as a blade came whizzing by and then back as another took its place. Tripping on her own feet as she sought to get out of the way of his wild swinging, Aya fell sprawling. Instinct told her to roll to one side. Just in time as a blade clove into the ground where her head had been, embedding deep. She looked up. And then past the cloaked man as something caught her eye.
A figure dressed in unconventional pristine white. In the tree high above. He stood almost casually with one hand on the trees trunk. He surveyed the battle calmly with eyes that were unmistakably-
Aya rolled to her feet as the attacker sought to pin her to the ground with a straight downward thrust. As his blade bit into the hard-packed soil and he sought to dislodge it, Serrtin barreled into him, shoulder first. There was an audible snapping sound and the man cried out as he sailed flying into the greenery. Coming up weaponless and without the use of one of his arms kept him from rejoining the fray but he remained wary, his dark eyes ready to exploit any opportunity no matter the painful injury. One of his fellows reached his side surrounded by two others, one clutching gingerly at a leg that could not support his full weight.
Serrtin glanced over at Aya to ascertain the mage’s condition. Dirty and a bit scraggled but no worse for wear, the Bren wore a pinched expression of alertness. Agemeer joined them, a snarl coming from deep within his throat. A light wound was evident on one of his forefeet, the crimson blood standing out starkly against his fur.
Five more joined the dark cloaked men in the process of regrouping for the next round. A quick survey proved that was the last of them, their companions were scattered around the clearing unconscious or worse. Eight to three. But Aya was not a close-range fighter and Agemeer had no place in such a battle- he knew how to put the Wulf’s carnal qualities to good use but with such limited spacing, it would be unwise. That left just Serrtin. Eight to one; Serrtin had seen odds less in her favor. And she always enjoyed a good fight.
The saurian stepped forward, tired of looking at them. “Who are you and what do you want with us?”
Her question was met by silent glares and impudent gestures with bare steel.
“Well, then, if you won’t talk now, maybe your tongues will loosen after I’m through with you. If I let you live.” That much said, Serrtin leapt at the first hooded man, flamberge swung low. The battle began once more.
Aya shuffled back. She could not risk a spell that might accidentally injure or impede her friend for Serrtin was moving too fast to single out one individual. All seemed intent on taking the towering warrior down.
She dodged and blocked, spun and slashed, her wavy-edged blade carving a bloody path. Her movements were fluid for one of her size and
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