Read Online Sourcethief (Book 3) by J.S. Morin - Free Book Online Page B

was also lost that day for his own folly," Varduk
told the dragon. It seemed more diplomatic than to mention that Jinzan had been
one of the few to survive the assault on Raynesdark and that he had managed to
acquire the Staff of Gehlen in the bargain. "It demonstrates though that
the demon is a threat to your kind as well as mine. He is bent on conquest and
will not let your lands lie in peace."
    "Then he will find his doom at that time. If he
finds it before then, it will not be my doing. You see, I remember him from
before his self-imposed exile. My goblins, generations ago by their reckoning,
once traded with Kadrin while he ruled beside four emperors. He understands our
power, and our position. If he attacks the dragonlands, it will not be one
lair's defenses against him, but a rallying of my kind against him. We are
unassailable," Fr'n'ta'gur proclaimed. Varduk was enough of a student of
history to know how dubious a claim that was, but was in no position to argue.
    "We would be very generous if you were to come
to our aid in—"
    "Do you know," Fr'n'ta'gur interrupted,
"why I had my goblins bathe and clothe you thus, before you were allowed
to enter my presence?"
    Varduk paused. He felt a cold sweat on his brow.
    "I assumed so that my scent would not ...
offend you, mighty one?"
    "No."
    Varduk waited in nervous silence as Fr'n'ta'gur's
neck stretched, craning around to regard him from all sides.
    "It was to improve your taste, in case I caught
you lying to me."
    Varduk managed half a scream before the dragon
snapped its jaws shut around him.
    * * * * * * *
*
    Human, awaken.
    Narsicann obeyed, not by compulsion, but rather the
shock of the mental intrusion.
    "Who is this?" Narsicann asked aloud to
the empty bedchamber. Even in the aether, he could see nothing that might have
addressed him.
    Speak up. If you talk aloud your
mind is quieter, the voice in his head scolded him. Narsicann looked to the small table where he
had deposited the few belongings he had brought with him. The Ghelkan speaking
helm was still there. Normal spells for speaking mind-to-mind worked only over
short distances. The owner of the mysterious voice had to be close by.
    Who is this? Narsicann asked, thinking the
words this time.
    You wished to speak to me, I
believe.
    Are you the demon king of Azzat? Narsicann asked.
    How many have you requested meetings
with since arriving in my kingdom, High Councilor Narsicann Tenrok?
    Just yourself, Your Majesty.
    I am Xizix. I will speak with you
because you mentioned two subjects that intrigue me, and that is two more than
usual most seasons. Come to me.
    Now? Where do I go?
    Yes, and follow my directions.
Take up the helm you brought with you. I wish to see that as well.
    Narsicann had not packed for his trip. He had gone
to sleep in normal attire. He pulled on boots and cloak and ventured out into
the night.
    Xizix directed his path. Narsicann found the streets
deserted before him, a sight he never saw in Zorren, which was bustling on some
level throughout all hours of the day. There was something ... unwholesome ...
about relinquishing mankind's grip on the land to nature's whim. Narsicann
noted that he was approaching the royal palace as he followed the demon king's
instructions.
    You grow close now, he heard as he came to the outer
wall that defined the palace grounds. Very close.
    Am I to enter the palace? Narsicann asked.
    "No," said a gravelly voice behind him.
Narsicann turned to see an ogre-sized creature with leathery, ashen skin. A
clawed hand closed around his neck—thwarted briefly by a shielding spell that
provided an eggshell's protection—and lifted him effortlessly into the air. The
demon's other hand picked up the speaking helm from where Narsicann had dropped
it while struggling to free himself. "I dislike finding spies in my
kingdom, but I would parlay with your master from a safe distance. How does
this helm work?"
    Let me go, demon! Narsicann screamed in his head,
unable to draw