Rogue Legacy, Jeffrey L. Kohanek [best pdf reader for ebooks .txt] 📗

“Darvin! It’s Lyra. Let me in!” Lyra pounded on the door again. “You owe me.”

“I’ll not open the door ‘til the soldiers are gone!” the man shouted.

“Stand aside, sir.” Cal replied.

“What? Why?”

“I suggest you move aside. Now.”

Cal turned to Lyra, who nodded. He lifted a leg and kicked, blasting the door off the frame and sending splinters in all directions. The door slammed into the bar across the room, knocking the bar back before the door flipped over it and broke the keg behind it. Frothy ale poured out, covering the dirt floor.

Darvin stared at the mess, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. His round face transformed from shock to anger as Lyra and Cal stepped into the room.

“What did you do to my tavern? You filthy…”

Darvin swung a meaty fist at Lyra, but Cal caught the big man’s wrist, holding it firmly without any apparent effort. The man’s eyes bulged and his knees buckled. Cal released his grip, and the man rubbed his wrist while kneeling on the floor.

“Didn’t anyone teach you how to treat a lady?” Cal asked. “Certainly, hitting a woman is frowned upon even here in Wayport.”

Darvin grimaced but remained on his knees.

Lyra turned to Cal. “I’ll run upstairs to get my bag, and then we can go.”

Without waiting on a response, Lyra darted up the stairs, pulled the key loop over her head, and unlocked the door. She opened her pack and stuffed her belongings inside before shouldering it, along with both water skins. When she descended, she found Darvin standing beside the cook and the waitress, both of whom appeared confused.

“You owe me for repairs, Lyra,” Darvin stated.

Lyra snorted as she reached the taproom floor. “The chunk of gold I gave you is more than enough to pay for this, and you know it. However, you still owe me five days of food, so I’m taking some from the kitchen before I leave.”

She pushed past him and opened the kitchen door. Moving quickly, she gathered anything edible that she could fit in the pack. When her pack was filled and the kitchen pilfered, she crossed the dining room, and stopped beside the open doorway.

“Good luck, Darvin. Judging by what’s happening out there, you’ll need it.”

Lyra hurried down the street with Cal following. When they came to the first intersection, they turned and took another street.

Upon reaching the opening area at the city entrance, Lyra found Kalimar soldiers occupying the area. Arranged in rows three men deep, the soldiers blocked the width of the road before the closed gate. The front row of soldiers stood ready, holding swords and shields. Behind them stood two rows of men armed with long pikes.

Moving boldly, Lyra led Cal out into the open and stopped just strides before the line of soldiers.

“We need to leave the city,” Lyra announced. “Please stand aside so nobody gets hurt.”

Cal threw his hands up, sounding exasperated. “Why must you do everything the hard way?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Lyra asked.

A tall man, with shorn hair and a short-trimmed black beard, stepped forward. His uniform marked him as a sergeant. The man laughed as his gaze flicked from Lyra to Cal.

“What are you two twerps going to do? Kill us with your sharp wit?”

Another man pointed toward Lyra. “Sarge! It’s her, one of Tallinor’s girls! I recognize her from the palace.”

The sergeant scowled, his expression becoming grim.

“Kill them.”

Cal shifted to stand before her. “Lyra, sheathe your weapons. I have a plan.”

She did as instructed and Cal scooped her up, backing away from the advancing soldiers.

Cal looked down at Lyra and gave her small smile. “You need to hold on to me tightly. I can’t because I might crush you.”

Lyra wrapped her arms around Cal’s neck and squeezed. He immediately burst into motion, running around the armed men, straight toward the wooden palisades. He leapt into the air, the two of them rising more than two stories off the ground to sail over the line of spiked poles that encircled the city.

With wide eyes, Lyra experienced a moment of weightlessness. In an oddly detached way, she noticed fire coming from the keep at the center of the city and the shadows of bodies dotting the narrow streets – some in the midst of fighting, while others lay unmoving. They then began to fall, stirring Lyra’s stomach and sending tingles throughout her body as they plummeted toward the ground. Although Cal bent his magic-powered legs to absorb the landing, the sudden impact drove the wind from Lyra’s lungs, leaving her wide-eyed and unable to breathe.

Cal set her down gently with concern reflected in his eyes. Lyra fell to her hands and knees in the long grass, begging for her lungs to relent. Finally, she gasped and sweet air returned, leaving her panting to reclaim it.

“Sorry about that.” Cal looked back toward the wall. “I didn’t think about how the landing might affect you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyra choked out. “I’ve often considered breathing overrated anyway.”

She looked up at Cal and found him grinning.

“My, how I’ve missed you.”

Lyra smiled, experiencing relief and joy upon hearing those sweet words. She stood and slid close to him.

“Do you remember what happened right before you left me?”

“How could I forget?” Cal’s usually glib tone was missing as he spoke. “The moment is etched in the very fiber of my being.”

She ran her hand down his bruised face. “When I saw you in the square today, my feelings took hold of me, and I realized that nothing has changed.” Lyra stared into his eyes, ignoring the shouts and screams coming from the city.

Faced with the moment she had dreamt of for three years, Lyra found herself in an internal battle, torn between an unusual lack of self-confidence and emotions that compelled her to take action. Rather than having to force herself into a decision, Cal made the decision for her.

He tilted his head and his lips brushed against hers, bringing them to life. Lyra wrapped her arms about his shoulders and sank deeper into the kiss, pouring three years of pent-up emotion into the moment, a moment that lasted forever. However, Lyra found that even forever must reach an end, an end that was actually a beginning.

Cal smiled at her, the adoration in his gaze flaming the fire Lyra felt inside. Of all the moments she could have imagined, none would ever be as perfect as this.

“Ugh!” Harman groaned. “More kissing?”

Jane frowned. “Is there something wrong with kissing?”

“Well…um…no. I guess not,” he shrugged. “But do you have to keep bringing it up and describing it?”

“You’re at the age where you’ll soon feel differently about kissing. I bet before the year is out, you’ll have kissed some lucky girl, maybe numerous lucky girls.”

Harman didn’t respond, wishing to move beyond the subject.

“Besides,” Jane continued. “This is my story. If I want to describe a bit of kissing here and there, it’s my prerogative.” Her face split into a grin. “That is, unless you’d like me to include more than just kissing. I could make it quite…”

“No.” Harman’s cheeks grew flush at the thought of his grandmother adding additional romantic details. “Never mind. Just continue on with the story, Grandma.”

Jane nodded and her grin faded. “Very well. Where was I?”

“Lyra and Cal just escaped Wayport, and they…kissed.”

“Thank you.” She resumed her tale. “A tower of flames shot into the night sky, lighting the field where the couple was standing. Screams arose, louder and closer than before…”