Read Online Iron and Blood by Auston Habershaw - Free Book Online

as though cleaning it.
    Tyvian drummed the fingers of his free hand on the table and tried to keep from tapping his foot. He took a glance at the spirit clock—­three in the morning. He face was still throbbing from Jaevis’s attentions earlier, despite the salves he had applied. Hool had been “kind” enough to pop his shoulder back into joint with a savage tug, but his left arm still felt as though it might fall off. He ached, stank, and had no doubt he looked like an Illini mud-­barker during monsoon season. He also guessed he only had a matter of hours to get everything ready for tomorrow.
    He tried to catch Dohas’s gaze, but the Kalsaari now had a different stone out. This one was on a string, the old monk dangling it over the palm of Tyvian’s hand and watching as it jerked from side to side or up and down, depending on how close it was to the ring. “I’m sorry, but did I mention I was in a bit of a rush.”
    â€œThe Art will not be rushed.”
    â€œThe Art doesn’t realize there will be a troop of Defenders of the Balance kicking in that door in a matter of hours.”
    The Artificer stared at Tyvian, his whole body suddenly rigid.
    Tyvian forced a laugh. “Sorry, sorry—­forget that last. I spoke out of turn. Please, continue at your leisure, sir.”
    â€œAh.” Dohas returned to his work, but this time he seemed to be bobbing his string-­on-­a-­stone a bit more urgently.
    Hool lumbered into the room, a tub of beef jerky under one hairy arm. Dohas froze again, his eyes locked on the gnoll. She ignored him. “Artus is waking up. I think he is feeling much better.”
    Tyvian looked over his shoulder at the gnoll. “Hool, I’m busy.”
    Hool sniffed the tub of jerky. “Is this for eating or wearing?”
    â€œWhichever you please. You didn’t sit on the couch, did you?”
    â€œNo, that is where I put your dirty clothes.”
    Tyvian heaved a sigh and did his best imitation of Dohas. “Ah.”
    A weak voice called from the guest room. “Reldamar . . .”
    One of Hool’s ears swiveled to listen, but her copper eyes stayed fixed on Tyvian. “I told you. He needs to tell you important things.”
    Tyvian looked at Dohas. “Can you do this while we walk?” The monk frowned, and Tyvian jerked his free thumb toward the front door. “Defenders, remember?”
    â€œAh. As you say.” The Artificer rose, his hands cradling Tyvian’s hand as though it were fashioned from glass. They walked in this way to just outside Artus’s room and Tyvian poked his head in the door.
    Artus had propped himself up in bed. The boy was pale, his eyes only half open, but he still looked worlds better than he had yesterday. “You . . . you took me in.”
    Tyvian stepped inside the room and stood at the bedside, the Artificer trailing along like some sort of tattooed manicurist. Tyvian shrugged, “The least I could do.”
    â€œI . . . I didn’t know if you would . . .”
    Tyvian took a deep breath. “Yes . . . well . . . I did, didn’t I?”
    Artus smiled at him. “I knew you weren’t such a bad guy . . . knew it . . .”
    â€œLook, let’s stop talking about me. What happened to you?”
    Artus frowned at the Artificer. “Who’s that guy?”
    â€œFocus, Artus—­what happened to you?”
    â€œWhat happened to your face?”
    â€œHann’s boots, boy! Tell me what happened !”
    Artus blinked for a moment, as though dredging his memories. Then his eyes flew open. “Saints! I almost forgot! I’ve got a lot to tell you—­somebody is trying to capture you! They hired Jaevis—­he’s not dead, you know—­and there was some younger guy and your friend Carlo . . .”
    Tyvian pulled up a stool and sat down. “All right,