Read Online Sands of Aggar: Amazons of Aggar Book 3 by Chris Anne Wolfe - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chris Anne Wolfe
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formed in her mind, a carefully crafted spell she’d perfected as a child. She whispered ancient words of power under her breath, slipping the last of her magical energy into the spell and, when she opened her eyes a second time and cautiously glanced into the puddle, hazel irises reflected back at her.
She stood carefully, swaying momentarily on her feet before regaining her balance. She stretched, her ropey muscles lengthening and contracting with almost mechanical precision. The physicality of the movements helped recenter her, calming the wrath of the warring Blue Sight and destruction magics flooding her body. Soon all that was left was the ice-cold emptiness she’d developed in childhood.
She leaned her weight over one foot, looming over the street like a gargoyle guarding its perch. The men she’d been watching had disappeared, but it didn’t matter. She knew where the Circle was now. She wouldn’t lose sight of them again.
Her lips curled away from her teeth as anger replaced the empathy she’d felt for the raven. Her mind spun, plotting and strategizing as lightning-fast as a military general. She couldn’t attack anyone outright, but she needed a kill tonight.
She waited for over an hour, weighing the risk of leasing a room for the night in the same inn as the Circle, when two of the Circle’s men exited, stumbling drunkenly into the night.
With a flick of her cloak, Adrian ran for the edge of the shop and leapt to the ground, landing with a thud in a back alley and throwing her weight forward into a somersault to absorb the blow. She rolled to her feet in a single, swift movement. She fixed her hood over her silver hair and continued out onto the street.
She followed the drunken Circle raiders, staying far enough back not to catch their attention, waiting for them to turn down a dark alley or stumble outside city limits. She fingered the hilt of a dagger in her long sleeve, her hands arching to throw it. She grinned as the men tripped to the side, ducking between a closed bakery and a butcher’s shop.
She raced forward, drawing her knife as she rounded the corner after them, keeping close against the wall, using her returning illusion magic to blend in with the shadows. She needed to move completely unseen, silence them before they could cry out,.
One man supported his friend as he vomited on the dirt path. Adrian stalked forward toward the standing marauder, a surge of excitement setting every nerve on fire with each step. She raised her knife, aiming to slit his throat, when the sharp thud of a boot striking stone echoed through the alley.
“You’ve strayed too far from the inn.”
A sharp female voice dripping with disdain reverberated through the alley. Adrian immediately ducked back into the shadows. A small woman strode forward, her hood thrown back behind cropped dark gold curls. She crossed her arms over her chest, her body hugged neck to toe in traveler’s leathers, revealing the lines of a half dozen weapons. Adrian arched a single silver brow, feeling a heat in her stomach she hadn’t felt since beginning her travels.
“You’re not our guardian in town, Rox,” the sick marauder garbled.
“Calder’s orders. Or do you have to be reminded of what happened to Gryert?”
“You said we’re not being followed.”
Rox’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “There are more threats than assassins.”
The standing marauder helped his friend to his feet. “Like Gryert’s ghost.”
Rox growled low under her breath, the sound more animal than human. “There’s no ghost haunting the Circle.”
“Tell that to Gryert.”
Adrian felt a rush of pleasure at the look of fear in the raider’s eyes. A ghost. It wouldn’t be the first time the comparison had been made, especially as Adrian stood shrouded in shadow. She liked the thought that the Circle was haunted enough by Gryert’s death to fear her even when they were safe from her blade. It would certainly make killing them
She stood carefully, swaying momentarily on her feet before regaining her balance. She stretched, her ropey muscles lengthening and contracting with almost mechanical precision. The physicality of the movements helped recenter her, calming the wrath of the warring Blue Sight and destruction magics flooding her body. Soon all that was left was the ice-cold emptiness she’d developed in childhood.
She leaned her weight over one foot, looming over the street like a gargoyle guarding its perch. The men she’d been watching had disappeared, but it didn’t matter. She knew where the Circle was now. She wouldn’t lose sight of them again.
Her lips curled away from her teeth as anger replaced the empathy she’d felt for the raven. Her mind spun, plotting and strategizing as lightning-fast as a military general. She couldn’t attack anyone outright, but she needed a kill tonight.
She waited for over an hour, weighing the risk of leasing a room for the night in the same inn as the Circle, when two of the Circle’s men exited, stumbling drunkenly into the night.
With a flick of her cloak, Adrian ran for the edge of the shop and leapt to the ground, landing with a thud in a back alley and throwing her weight forward into a somersault to absorb the blow. She rolled to her feet in a single, swift movement. She fixed her hood over her silver hair and continued out onto the street.
She followed the drunken Circle raiders, staying far enough back not to catch their attention, waiting for them to turn down a dark alley or stumble outside city limits. She fingered the hilt of a dagger in her long sleeve, her hands arching to throw it. She grinned as the men tripped to the side, ducking between a closed bakery and a butcher’s shop.
She raced forward, drawing her knife as she rounded the corner after them, keeping close against the wall, using her returning illusion magic to blend in with the shadows. She needed to move completely unseen, silence them before they could cry out,.
One man supported his friend as he vomited on the dirt path. Adrian stalked forward toward the standing marauder, a surge of excitement setting every nerve on fire with each step. She raised her knife, aiming to slit his throat, when the sharp thud of a boot striking stone echoed through the alley.
“You’ve strayed too far from the inn.”
A sharp female voice dripping with disdain reverberated through the alley. Adrian immediately ducked back into the shadows. A small woman strode forward, her hood thrown back behind cropped dark gold curls. She crossed her arms over her chest, her body hugged neck to toe in traveler’s leathers, revealing the lines of a half dozen weapons. Adrian arched a single silver brow, feeling a heat in her stomach she hadn’t felt since beginning her travels.
“You’re not our guardian in town, Rox,” the sick marauder garbled.
“Calder’s orders. Or do you have to be reminded of what happened to Gryert?”
“You said we’re not being followed.”
Rox’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “There are more threats than assassins.”
The standing marauder helped his friend to his feet. “Like Gryert’s ghost.”
Rox growled low under her breath, the sound more animal than human. “There’s no ghost haunting the Circle.”
“Tell that to Gryert.”
Adrian felt a rush of pleasure at the look of fear in the raider’s eyes. A ghost. It wouldn’t be the first time the comparison had been made, especially as Adrian stood shrouded in shadow. She liked the thought that the Circle was haunted enough by Gryert’s death to fear her even when they were safe from her blade. It would certainly make killing them
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