Read Online The Druid's Spear (Ascent of the Gem Bearers Book 1) by Parker Payne, Lee Thornton III - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Parker Payne, Lee Thornton III
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followed. It moved like a blur, but Ken jerked back before it could touch him. He raced down the hall.
A guttural roar sounded behind him, but Ken focused on getting to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamplight from the interior illuminated the hall. He ran in, slammed and locked the door. It splintered. Through the slits the glowing eyes narrowed on him. His eyes searched for a barrier and landed on the massive chest of drawers. Quickly he grabbed and hefted it in front of the door. The drawers fell out and littered the floor with clothes but he didn’t care. A thud sent the piece of furniture teetering toward him.
He had to get out of here. He rushed to the window and opened it.
A crash exploded behind him. The barrier fell to the floor. A swift glance showed the door broken to pieces. Next a jean-clad leg kicked the chest of drawers, breaking it into splinters of wood.
Ken faced forward to jump out when he was grabbed by the throat and thrown away like rag doll. The wall stopped his momentum. More pain shot through his body, but he didn’t scream out. Instead, he seethed. A raw coil of rage burned him on the inside. He didn’t know why this was happening, but he wouldn’t stand by and allow this…whatever it was to take him down without a fight.
The thing towered over him, the glowing eyes so full of hate it seared him clear to his soul.
Rise, Seed of Rhychard.
It spoke in his mind once more, but he refused to analyze that now. Wincing, he stood and faced his attacker.
Sweat beaded his brow as they confronted each other. He throbbed with discomfort but met his opponent’s gaze. If he were to die this night, then it would happen with him on his feet. The soft light of the lamp on the other side of the room wasn’t strong enough to show the face of his enemy, but it showed him the long, tattered, black cloak. The shadow it cast landed on the far side of the wall.
What was it? Why did it come here?
A thousand questions tumbled over themselves in his mind but he shut down that part of his brain. If he survived this night, he might not want to know the answers.
The temperature of the room climbed until the place felt like an oven. Droplets of salty sweat rained down into his eyes, stinging the cuts found there. He blinked the moisture away. The thing gazed at him, unmoved by the heat. Soon, the stifling warmth grew hotter. Blisters formed along his exposed arms and he fell to his knees. His heart thumped frantically in his chest. Saliva dribbled down his mouth as the temperature rose. As the oxygen disappeared from the room, his lungs fought for air.
Then things got bad.
A cloud of sulfuric, hot steam came at him. In slow motion, Ken noticed it streamed out in two lines of attack from the vicinity of the glowing eyes. From the nostrils?
Ken screamed as the steam scorched his face. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the room. He held his face instinctively and then howled again at the pain. He attempted to get away, clumsily rising to his feet, but he was lifted into the air and thrown across the room to once more hit a wall. This time, his elbow landed hard, with a distinct crack. His body clattered to the ground, his feet and legs crashing against the night stand with the lamp falling over. Agony surged up his injured arm and he cradled the useless limb. The thing grabbed him by the throat, its hard hands so large it covered his mouth.
It leaned in, the eyes bright as miniature stars, hypnotic. Where is the blood gem?
Ken swallowed. “What are you talking about?”
Rhychard gave it to you. Where is it?
“I don’t know what you talking about.”
The thing came nearer and the light from its eyes cast an illumination on its face. Dark, porous skin gleamed under the rays emitting from its eyes. His resolve failed him. How could he have even thought he could conquer something like this? John was dead after being accosted and now he was well on his way to following his brother. Ken’s heart fluttered,
A guttural roar sounded behind him, but Ken focused on getting to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamplight from the interior illuminated the hall. He ran in, slammed and locked the door. It splintered. Through the slits the glowing eyes narrowed on him. His eyes searched for a barrier and landed on the massive chest of drawers. Quickly he grabbed and hefted it in front of the door. The drawers fell out and littered the floor with clothes but he didn’t care. A thud sent the piece of furniture teetering toward him.
He had to get out of here. He rushed to the window and opened it.
A crash exploded behind him. The barrier fell to the floor. A swift glance showed the door broken to pieces. Next a jean-clad leg kicked the chest of drawers, breaking it into splinters of wood.
Ken faced forward to jump out when he was grabbed by the throat and thrown away like rag doll. The wall stopped his momentum. More pain shot through his body, but he didn’t scream out. Instead, he seethed. A raw coil of rage burned him on the inside. He didn’t know why this was happening, but he wouldn’t stand by and allow this…whatever it was to take him down without a fight.
The thing towered over him, the glowing eyes so full of hate it seared him clear to his soul.
Rise, Seed of Rhychard.
It spoke in his mind once more, but he refused to analyze that now. Wincing, he stood and faced his attacker.
Sweat beaded his brow as they confronted each other. He throbbed with discomfort but met his opponent’s gaze. If he were to die this night, then it would happen with him on his feet. The soft light of the lamp on the other side of the room wasn’t strong enough to show the face of his enemy, but it showed him the long, tattered, black cloak. The shadow it cast landed on the far side of the wall.
What was it? Why did it come here?
A thousand questions tumbled over themselves in his mind but he shut down that part of his brain. If he survived this night, he might not want to know the answers.
The temperature of the room climbed until the place felt like an oven. Droplets of salty sweat rained down into his eyes, stinging the cuts found there. He blinked the moisture away. The thing gazed at him, unmoved by the heat. Soon, the stifling warmth grew hotter. Blisters formed along his exposed arms and he fell to his knees. His heart thumped frantically in his chest. Saliva dribbled down his mouth as the temperature rose. As the oxygen disappeared from the room, his lungs fought for air.
Then things got bad.
A cloud of sulfuric, hot steam came at him. In slow motion, Ken noticed it streamed out in two lines of attack from the vicinity of the glowing eyes. From the nostrils?
Ken screamed as the steam scorched his face. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the room. He held his face instinctively and then howled again at the pain. He attempted to get away, clumsily rising to his feet, but he was lifted into the air and thrown across the room to once more hit a wall. This time, his elbow landed hard, with a distinct crack. His body clattered to the ground, his feet and legs crashing against the night stand with the lamp falling over. Agony surged up his injured arm and he cradled the useless limb. The thing grabbed him by the throat, its hard hands so large it covered his mouth.
It leaned in, the eyes bright as miniature stars, hypnotic. Where is the blood gem?
Ken swallowed. “What are you talking about?”
Rhychard gave it to you. Where is it?
“I don’t know what you talking about.”
The thing came nearer and the light from its eyes cast an illumination on its face. Dark, porous skin gleamed under the rays emitting from its eyes. His resolve failed him. How could he have even thought he could conquer something like this? John was dead after being accosted and now he was well on his way to following his brother. Ken’s heart fluttered,
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