Read Online The Miscreant (An Assassin's Blade Book 2) by Justin DePaoli - Free Book Online
Authors: Justin DePaoli
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of blistering fire. A cyclone of flames as tall as where the branches of the trees first sprouted whirled like an unconstrained geyser.
Terror shrieked across the calm reaches of the forest. Soldiers ran. They fell. Some crawled, fingers stretching for something that wasn’t charred. But the swirling hell boiled the nerves right from their bodies, and they turned to lumps of tinder.
A few managed to wriggle free, including Braddock. He was leapt upon by at least five of his men, punched and socked until the flames went out.
Lysa tugged at my shoulder. “Get up!”
The phoenix charged us, head down.
“Tylik!” I screamed. “Make it stop. Stop the fucking—”
The bird cawed, reared back and cocked its head.
Lysa and I scrambled onto its back.
“Where to?” Tylik asked.
“Somewhere other than here. Oh, fuck me. Fuck me! We’ve possibly murdered the most powerful king on Mizridahl, and certainly burnt the shit out of him if not. Fuck me!”
“It’s okay,” Lysa said. She was strangely calm. “We’re leaving Mizridahl.”
“What?” I asked.
“Tylik, take us to Lith.”
Chapter Five
T he night , it seemed, had treated me well. I awoke in a cottage, transparent sheets dangling from the windows. Slivers of sunlight pierced the veil, warming the wooden floor in a lovely golden glow. I couldn’t seem to speak, but that was fine by me, because I’d soon be using my mouth for other purposes.
A woman with pale skin and bright pink nipples approached the bed. She put a hand on my thigh and said, “Astul.”
That voice. It didn’t… it didn’t match the face at all.
Again. “Astul.”
She winked in and out of focus.
“Astul.”
Suddenly, the stink of fish assaulted my nose and a bright orange flare seared my eyes. I blinked, picked my head up and saw the foam of an angry ocean resting atop jutting rocks. A burbling wave crested and slammed into the rocks, and the water was yanked back out into the endless sea.
“You were sleeping,” Lysa pointed out.
“Thanks. That little fact was lost upon me. Where are we?”
“Crooked Crags. Um, I think. I’m not very familiar with the coast, but this seems right.”
Crooked Crags was a fisherman’s land. More importantly, a fisherman’s land on Mizridahl. “We’re supposed to be in Lith,” I said, stretching my arms and climbing down from the phoenix.
“Let me see,” Lysa said, inspecting my arm. She loosened the undershirt and clicked her tongue. “You’re still bleeding too much. And this is deeper than I thought. I hope Tylik can get some wolf’s leaf.”
I shrugged my arm away. “What are you, a savant?”
She leaned against the phoenix, its flames receding. “I’ve always enjoyed reading, and medicine interests me. You should be thankful.”
“I haven’t persevered as an assassin for fifteen years because I know nothing of medicine.”
“Mm. What’s wolf’s leaf do, then?”
I blinked. “Shut up. Where’s Tylik?”
“I told you. He’s trying to barter for supplies. We lost everything in Tronen.”
“Why is the crippled bartering instead of you? He can barely walk.”
She played with the ends of her hair, holding them up for close inspection. “He says he’s good at having people take pity on him. I think he’s right.”
“If you’re insinuating…”
“I’m not insinuating anything. You take things very personally.”
A couple roughers stomped down to the docks, buckets clasped within their burly arms. They doused the wooden planks, stripping them of fish guts, scales and blood.
“You know,” I said, “I’m starting not to like you, Lysa.”
She shrugged and rocked forward. “You freed me, so you’re stuck with me now.”
I mimed a pair of scissors. “Can cut you loose at any time.”
She stuck her pointy nose in close to my face and pursed her lips. “Know what I think, Mr. Assassin?”
“That you’re annoying?”
“That you need me. After all, you don’t know who he is. Or why he’s
Terror shrieked across the calm reaches of the forest. Soldiers ran. They fell. Some crawled, fingers stretching for something that wasn’t charred. But the swirling hell boiled the nerves right from their bodies, and they turned to lumps of tinder.
A few managed to wriggle free, including Braddock. He was leapt upon by at least five of his men, punched and socked until the flames went out.
Lysa tugged at my shoulder. “Get up!”
The phoenix charged us, head down.
“Tylik!” I screamed. “Make it stop. Stop the fucking—”
The bird cawed, reared back and cocked its head.
Lysa and I scrambled onto its back.
“Where to?” Tylik asked.
“Somewhere other than here. Oh, fuck me. Fuck me! We’ve possibly murdered the most powerful king on Mizridahl, and certainly burnt the shit out of him if not. Fuck me!”
“It’s okay,” Lysa said. She was strangely calm. “We’re leaving Mizridahl.”
“What?” I asked.
“Tylik, take us to Lith.”
Chapter Five
T he night , it seemed, had treated me well. I awoke in a cottage, transparent sheets dangling from the windows. Slivers of sunlight pierced the veil, warming the wooden floor in a lovely golden glow. I couldn’t seem to speak, but that was fine by me, because I’d soon be using my mouth for other purposes.
A woman with pale skin and bright pink nipples approached the bed. She put a hand on my thigh and said, “Astul.”
That voice. It didn’t… it didn’t match the face at all.
Again. “Astul.”
She winked in and out of focus.
“Astul.”
Suddenly, the stink of fish assaulted my nose and a bright orange flare seared my eyes. I blinked, picked my head up and saw the foam of an angry ocean resting atop jutting rocks. A burbling wave crested and slammed into the rocks, and the water was yanked back out into the endless sea.
“You were sleeping,” Lysa pointed out.
“Thanks. That little fact was lost upon me. Where are we?”
“Crooked Crags. Um, I think. I’m not very familiar with the coast, but this seems right.”
Crooked Crags was a fisherman’s land. More importantly, a fisherman’s land on Mizridahl. “We’re supposed to be in Lith,” I said, stretching my arms and climbing down from the phoenix.
“Let me see,” Lysa said, inspecting my arm. She loosened the undershirt and clicked her tongue. “You’re still bleeding too much. And this is deeper than I thought. I hope Tylik can get some wolf’s leaf.”
I shrugged my arm away. “What are you, a savant?”
She leaned against the phoenix, its flames receding. “I’ve always enjoyed reading, and medicine interests me. You should be thankful.”
“I haven’t persevered as an assassin for fifteen years because I know nothing of medicine.”
“Mm. What’s wolf’s leaf do, then?”
I blinked. “Shut up. Where’s Tylik?”
“I told you. He’s trying to barter for supplies. We lost everything in Tronen.”
“Why is the crippled bartering instead of you? He can barely walk.”
She played with the ends of her hair, holding them up for close inspection. “He says he’s good at having people take pity on him. I think he’s right.”
“If you’re insinuating…”
“I’m not insinuating anything. You take things very personally.”
A couple roughers stomped down to the docks, buckets clasped within their burly arms. They doused the wooden planks, stripping them of fish guts, scales and blood.
“You know,” I said, “I’m starting not to like you, Lysa.”
She shrugged and rocked forward. “You freed me, so you’re stuck with me now.”
I mimed a pair of scissors. “Can cut you loose at any time.”
She stuck her pointy nose in close to my face and pursed her lips. “Know what I think, Mr. Assassin?”
“That you’re annoying?”
“That you need me. After all, you don’t know who he is. Or why he’s
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