Read Online The Iron Ghost by Jen Williams - Free Book Online Page A

followed the diminutive figure of Nuava, her wild curls hidden under a grey rabbit-fur hat. They were walking one of the many paths out of the city that led up the towering mountain behind it, and they had passed the enormous quarry some time back, gaping off to their right like a wound. Sebastian had caught sight of the stony forms of the werkens, reflecting the bright morning sun; they looked like the bones of the mountain come to life. It was a clear day, the sky so blue that it was almost too bright to look at. Normally Sebastian would have been comforted by the resemblance to his home in Ynnsmouth, but there was no longer any comfort to be found in that memory.
    ‘I’m not sure this couldn’t have waited until after we retrieve the Heart-Stone,’ he said, hating the slightly petulant tone in his own voice.
    Frith shook his head. The young lord had thrown back his hood and in the strong sunshine his hair blazed as white as the snows.
    ‘To visit the tomb of a mage? I could hardly pass up such an opportunity. Besides which, Wydrin isn’t ready to leave.’ His mouth turned down at the corners. ‘She has been off with that Bors all morning.’
    Ahead of them, Nuava glanced hesitantly over her shoulder. ‘My brother seems to think she is interested in becoming joined to a werken.’
    ‘Joined to one?’ Frith scowled. ‘By all the gods, why would she want to do that?’
    Sebastian laughed shortly. ‘I don’t know, that sounds rather like Wydrin to me. You wouldn’t believe the number of tattoos I’ve talked her out of. How much further do we have to go, Nuava?’
    ‘Not much further.’
    To one side the path branched off to a small plateau, sheltered by a clutch of thick pine trees, bristling with dark green needles. The tops were dusted with snow. Nuava led them between the trees.
    ‘This seems a strange place for a tomb,’ said Sebastian. As they moved through the trees a cold hand walked its way up his spine. ‘A strange, lonely place.’
    ‘The story of Joah Cirrus is a strange one,’ answered Nuava. ‘You do not know it?’
    ‘I recognise the name,’ broke in Frith quickly. ‘From the histories of the mage wars. An important name, I remember, but I must confess I know no more.’
    ‘An important name . . .’ mused Nuava. ‘He was born with the name Joah Cirrus, later to be known as Joah Lightbringer, and eventually, Joah Demonsworn. According to the books I have studied, he was widely considered to be the greatest mage of them all, able to command the mages’ powers with greater skill than anyone who came before him, and he was able to craft the Edeian too, a rare skill in a mage. A rare skill in a man, in fact.’
    Sebastian caught Frith’s eyes and he shrugged ever so slightly. They’d passed through the trees now. In front of them was a small clearing fringed with pine trees, and at its heart was a pool of water, as deep a blue as the sky. Dried pine needles danced on its surface.
    ‘Should that not be frozen?’
    ‘It must be a natural hot spring,’ said Frith dismissively. ‘Unusual but not unknown.’
    ‘The final resting place of Joah Demonsworn shall never know cold,’ answered Nuava, as though she were quoting from something.
    Now that Sebastian looked, there were no snows around the pool; in fact, he could see grass around its edge, thick and green as if they stood in a summer’s valley.
    ‘The Joah I am thinking of,’ said Frith as they neared the pool, ‘was not thought of fondly.’
    ‘No,’ agreed Nuava, pulling her hat down to hang around her neck by its ties. It did feel a little warmer by the pool. ‘Not thought of fondly at all. Great is not always the same as good, I suppose.’ She coughed into her hand. Sebastian suspected she did not often spend so long talking to other people. ‘Joah was the greatest mage Ede had ever known, but he quickly grew tired of the language and knowledge of the gods. Instead he turned to other, less savoury