Read Online The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way by Harry Connolly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harry Connolly
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Tejohn pressed his hand against it; it didn’t wobble or bulge, and of course, there was no way to know if there was more granite behind it. He glanced at the spears nearby and knew instantly that he was not going to call for an axe. They had no one to send for it but these soldiers, and all of them looked like they would acknowledge the order, march down the hall, and never return.
They had fear in their eyes. They were poorly trained, and not a one of them measured up to the spears who died at Pinch Hall. Worse yet, before he went hollow, Doctor Twofin was twice the scholar that jumped-up house servant Rexler could ever be.
There was nothing to be done about it now. Tejohn’s urge for killing was on him, driving him forward. He stood close to the wall and slammed his short sword against a plank in the middle of the shutter. The wood cracked a bit but did not break completely. He bashed it again and again, the noise mimicking the anger in his guts. The edge dulled but did not shatter. Good steel. Anyway, with a sword, it was the point that mattered.
The sound of his hammering echoed within the rock tunnel. Everyone within a thousand feet could hear it, but Tejohn didn’t care. This hole was too small for him—or anyone with him—to crawl through, but he would be able to see if the wizard was there, at least.
The wood splintered, showing the dim light of the fading day. This room was open to the sky and the wind, too.
He kept swinging, ignoring the faint scent of blood and rotting meat. No one tried to help. Tejohn did not look at the other soldiers; he didn’t want to see their expressions again.
Finally, the whole shutter snapped in half, flew into the room, and clattered on the floor. Lowtower moved toward him, but the commander was not quite tall enough to see through the gap.
Tejohn leaned forward, slowly edging closer to the newly-made window. Fire and Fury, the smell was awful. He half expected to take an iron dart in his eye at any moment, but someone had to look.
Something small and dark leaped onto the stone ledge. It was dark brown and not even as long as a man’s forearm. Then it spread its wings and opened its tiny fanged mouth to shriek. The men at the end of the hall cried out in surprise and fear.
Reeling back, Tejohn thrust his sword at it even as it launched itself into the air. It was so fast, he couldn’t catch more than that fleeting glimpse, but even so he could tell there was something terribly wrong about it.
It wriggled left, avoiding the tip of Tejohn’s short sword, but he lunged after it and swung downward, swatting it to the floor. It struck with a wet smack, and Commander Lowtower pierced it with his spear, killing it instantly with a fine, accurate jab.
The soldiers cried out in terror once again; through the open gallery at the western end of the corridor, they could see more of the little beasts fly out over the lake, escaping through the open gallery into the wilderness.
Lowtower withdrew the point of his spear. He and Tejohn both bent low to examine the creature. “Kelvijinian guide us,” the commander said.
It was as Tejohn had feared. When scholars went hollow, their magic didn’t simply become more powerful; they also began to do new and terrifying things with it. And Doctor Oskol Twofin had been a medical scholar, well versed in the functions of living beings.
The creature had been a rat once. It was large for its size, with dark brown fur and the usual pale hairless tail. Twofin had added wings to its back. The place where the joint of the wing and the backbone met was utterly unmarked with scar or stitch, as though the beast had been born that way.
And, at the end of its forelegs, looking brown from the sun and faintly shriveled, was a pair of tiny human hands. Given his freedom for barely a cycle of the moon, and Doctor Twofin had already murdered small children for their parts.
Chapter 5
“Commander,” Tejohn
Tejohn pressed his hand against it; it didn’t wobble or bulge, and of course, there was no way to know if there was more granite behind it. He glanced at the spears nearby and knew instantly that he was not going to call for an axe. They had no one to send for it but these soldiers, and all of them looked like they would acknowledge the order, march down the hall, and never return.
They had fear in their eyes. They were poorly trained, and not a one of them measured up to the spears who died at Pinch Hall. Worse yet, before he went hollow, Doctor Twofin was twice the scholar that jumped-up house servant Rexler could ever be.
There was nothing to be done about it now. Tejohn’s urge for killing was on him, driving him forward. He stood close to the wall and slammed his short sword against a plank in the middle of the shutter. The wood cracked a bit but did not break completely. He bashed it again and again, the noise mimicking the anger in his guts. The edge dulled but did not shatter. Good steel. Anyway, with a sword, it was the point that mattered.
The sound of his hammering echoed within the rock tunnel. Everyone within a thousand feet could hear it, but Tejohn didn’t care. This hole was too small for him—or anyone with him—to crawl through, but he would be able to see if the wizard was there, at least.
The wood splintered, showing the dim light of the fading day. This room was open to the sky and the wind, too.
He kept swinging, ignoring the faint scent of blood and rotting meat. No one tried to help. Tejohn did not look at the other soldiers; he didn’t want to see their expressions again.
Finally, the whole shutter snapped in half, flew into the room, and clattered on the floor. Lowtower moved toward him, but the commander was not quite tall enough to see through the gap.
Tejohn leaned forward, slowly edging closer to the newly-made window. Fire and Fury, the smell was awful. He half expected to take an iron dart in his eye at any moment, but someone had to look.
Something small and dark leaped onto the stone ledge. It was dark brown and not even as long as a man’s forearm. Then it spread its wings and opened its tiny fanged mouth to shriek. The men at the end of the hall cried out in surprise and fear.
Reeling back, Tejohn thrust his sword at it even as it launched itself into the air. It was so fast, he couldn’t catch more than that fleeting glimpse, but even so he could tell there was something terribly wrong about it.
It wriggled left, avoiding the tip of Tejohn’s short sword, but he lunged after it and swung downward, swatting it to the floor. It struck with a wet smack, and Commander Lowtower pierced it with his spear, killing it instantly with a fine, accurate jab.
The soldiers cried out in terror once again; through the open gallery at the western end of the corridor, they could see more of the little beasts fly out over the lake, escaping through the open gallery into the wilderness.
Lowtower withdrew the point of his spear. He and Tejohn both bent low to examine the creature. “Kelvijinian guide us,” the commander said.
It was as Tejohn had feared. When scholars went hollow, their magic didn’t simply become more powerful; they also began to do new and terrifying things with it. And Doctor Oskol Twofin had been a medical scholar, well versed in the functions of living beings.
The creature had been a rat once. It was large for its size, with dark brown fur and the usual pale hairless tail. Twofin had added wings to its back. The place where the joint of the wing and the backbone met was utterly unmarked with scar or stitch, as though the beast had been born that way.
And, at the end of its forelegs, looking brown from the sun and faintly shriveled, was a pair of tiny human hands. Given his freedom for barely a cycle of the moon, and Doctor Twofin had already murdered small children for their parts.
Chapter 5
“Commander,” Tejohn
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