Read Online The Silver Tower (The Age of Dawn Book 3) by Everet Martins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Everet Martins
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Baylan wiped the tear onto the arm of his blue robes and then gave his head a quick shake. “The way to heal is to stay busy. Stay focused on the now,”Lillian would have said.
“Now to work on that ward.” He snatched a worn book from a neat stack on the corner of the great laboratory table. He paced around the circular room, muttering softly to himself, book in one hand and the other resting on his chin. It appeared to be mostly Phoenix script, something he could read.
“I wonder—”
The book leaped from his hand, smashing into the wall, his fingers closing where the book was. He instinctively reached for the Phoenix, but it was blocked with a portcullis of energy.
“By the Dragon,” Baylan breathed. He grabbed the dagger sticking from the lab table and pulled it free. No flames sprouted to life this time. No vibrating force in his grip.
A figure in black robes glided into the lab, its face hidden in shadows under a billowing hood. Its mouth was visible though, skin pale and hairless. Its lips pulled into a smile, human teeth. Baylan felt an iota of relief at that.
Around the man’s neck hung a glowing crystal, an Equalizer Baylan guessed based on Walter’s description. He tried to wind his fingers between the force that cut him off from the Phoenix to no avail. He hadn’t felt the pang of fear in ages until now. He felt naked without the comforting power of the Phoenix at his fingertips.
“You can put that pig sticker down. It won’t help you now and you know it,” the tall man said, his voice smooth as silk.
A woman walked in behind the robed figure, crossbow leveled at Baylan, bolt loaded. She wore intricate leather armor of overlapping strips and a belt with at least four sheathed daggers. The handle of a sword bulged from under the cloak draped across her shoulders.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Baylan said, backing into the table and rattling the artifacts.
“Baylan, you did not think we would forget your treachery so quickly, did you?” The man slid his hood back, revealing a bizarre, hairless head. Tower assassins.He could never get used to their strange grooming habits.Baylan’s free hand tightened against the table’s edge and the other the dagger’s hilt.
The man drew closer, his white skin bright in shaft of light that cut across his cheek.
Baylan licked his lips. “The Tower rots from within. I did what I had to do. Asebor has returned! You must—” The crossbow twanged and Baylan gasped as something slammed into his leg. He fell onto his side, groaning and crawling along the cold stone, his dagger rolling across the floor. His hand wrapped around the bolt jutting from his leg as he whimpered in pain.
“Please, you know it’s true. You must have heard of the battle on the plains. The Death Spawn—” Baylan screamed as the hairless man kicked the bolt hanging from his thigh, twisting it under his skin.
“The punishment for a traitor is death, but you already know that.” The man gracefully paced around the room. The woman grinned, loading another bolt. “You have been a most elusive target, Baylan. You’ve hidden your path quite well. I must applaud you for that.”
“Asebor, the Wretched—the ground already runs red with their return. The seal of the Age of Dawn, broken,” Baylan groaned, trying to stand on one leg. The hairless man flicked his fingers and Baylan’s leg was thrown to the side, sending him crashing into the floor. His head smacked hard and his vision swam. Wetness trickled down the side of his cheek. He lifted his head, warm and sticky.
Another shadowy figure loomed behind the woman, a great axe hanging high in the air. The axe fell with a hiss, chopping and crunching into her shoulder and splitting her down the middle, stopping at the hips. Blood sprayed across the man’s robes and spattered onto the back of his bare head, onto the walls, and across the floor. The crossbow fell with a clatter along with the offal that had once functioned
“Now to work on that ward.” He snatched a worn book from a neat stack on the corner of the great laboratory table. He paced around the circular room, muttering softly to himself, book in one hand and the other resting on his chin. It appeared to be mostly Phoenix script, something he could read.
“I wonder—”
The book leaped from his hand, smashing into the wall, his fingers closing where the book was. He instinctively reached for the Phoenix, but it was blocked with a portcullis of energy.
“By the Dragon,” Baylan breathed. He grabbed the dagger sticking from the lab table and pulled it free. No flames sprouted to life this time. No vibrating force in his grip.
A figure in black robes glided into the lab, its face hidden in shadows under a billowing hood. Its mouth was visible though, skin pale and hairless. Its lips pulled into a smile, human teeth. Baylan felt an iota of relief at that.
Around the man’s neck hung a glowing crystal, an Equalizer Baylan guessed based on Walter’s description. He tried to wind his fingers between the force that cut him off from the Phoenix to no avail. He hadn’t felt the pang of fear in ages until now. He felt naked without the comforting power of the Phoenix at his fingertips.
“You can put that pig sticker down. It won’t help you now and you know it,” the tall man said, his voice smooth as silk.
A woman walked in behind the robed figure, crossbow leveled at Baylan, bolt loaded. She wore intricate leather armor of overlapping strips and a belt with at least four sheathed daggers. The handle of a sword bulged from under the cloak draped across her shoulders.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Baylan said, backing into the table and rattling the artifacts.
“Baylan, you did not think we would forget your treachery so quickly, did you?” The man slid his hood back, revealing a bizarre, hairless head. Tower assassins.He could never get used to their strange grooming habits.Baylan’s free hand tightened against the table’s edge and the other the dagger’s hilt.
The man drew closer, his white skin bright in shaft of light that cut across his cheek.
Baylan licked his lips. “The Tower rots from within. I did what I had to do. Asebor has returned! You must—” The crossbow twanged and Baylan gasped as something slammed into his leg. He fell onto his side, groaning and crawling along the cold stone, his dagger rolling across the floor. His hand wrapped around the bolt jutting from his leg as he whimpered in pain.
“Please, you know it’s true. You must have heard of the battle on the plains. The Death Spawn—” Baylan screamed as the hairless man kicked the bolt hanging from his thigh, twisting it under his skin.
“The punishment for a traitor is death, but you already know that.” The man gracefully paced around the room. The woman grinned, loading another bolt. “You have been a most elusive target, Baylan. You’ve hidden your path quite well. I must applaud you for that.”
“Asebor, the Wretched—the ground already runs red with their return. The seal of the Age of Dawn, broken,” Baylan groaned, trying to stand on one leg. The hairless man flicked his fingers and Baylan’s leg was thrown to the side, sending him crashing into the floor. His head smacked hard and his vision swam. Wetness trickled down the side of his cheek. He lifted his head, warm and sticky.
Another shadowy figure loomed behind the woman, a great axe hanging high in the air. The axe fell with a hiss, chopping and crunching into her shoulder and splitting her down the middle, stopping at the hips. Blood sprayed across the man’s robes and spattered onto the back of his bare head, onto the walls, and across the floor. The crossbow fell with a clatter along with the offal that had once functioned
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