Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2), G.O. Turner [little bear else holmelund minarik txt] 📗

Evets settled over his desk, stretching palms across the surface. Lamplight illuminated the dark lines of his drow face.

Liv continued to take in the domed study. “You said it yourself,” she said, running a gauntlet across a high-back chair, “the creature may fear an impending necromancer. Maybe that is just so.”

She paused before a bookcase. There were a few undercommon tomes, however most of the spaces were filled with Haraden artistry. The centralmost piece was a steel statue of a drowess, her outstretched arm holding aloft a long sword inlaid with gold.

Evets thumped the desk. “Sounds as if several someones have taken an interest in your arrival.”

Strolling the room’s curvature, Liv came to its open-sky overlook. She wasn’t too concerned about being on her own with Evets. All the same, Liv was glad for so much space. She leaned against a balcony pillar and breathed in the cool mix of rain and arctic air. Her eyes roved the torrents washing the city.

“Haraden wasn’t the only one after your goblin. This shroud not only got him,” Liv turned back to the drow, “she got what she was after. According to my sister, she took an item from his body. Some sort of quill.”

“A quill. You mean…a feather?” The drow straightened, his stance stiffened. “Well, I guess that will be something for you and your team to ponder.”

Huh. There’d be some pondering alright… Something…

A brilliant shock of white jolted the Lightbringer. It flashed with a thunderous crack from behind.

Liv whirled, losing a step to the lightning arcing up the balcony. She had previously heard the cracking strikes as the evening wore on, but damn if that wasn’t close.

Evets folded his arms. “I told you Apex storms are not to be missed. Our old wizard could’ve lectured on all sorts of traits. Things about the confluence of a volcano in a frozen land.”

“Yeah… Well, thanks for that.” Liv’s heart pounded and her hair tingled. She sucked in a breath. Screw that. She distanced herself from the rain-soaked balcony. “I understand there are some forms of enchanted quills. Who knows? Maybe it was some form of scribe magic that retained something of its past?”

She shook her head. “Don’t know. Notions like that tend to pop into my head. Like…as beautiful as your city is, I haven’t seen much in the way of winged animals. Does Haraden even have birds?”

Evets’ head slowly pivoted.

Liv drew closer. “So, in a realm without birds, a feather would be quite the rarity.”

Drawing back his chair, Evets said, “I am aware of no such interest here. Besides our surface brothers, underdark people wouldn’t have a want for something they were never aware of.”

Some things a Lightbringer can tell. Things that do not require spells to unravel. The shift in posture or the flick of an eye. She’d piqued his interest, yet now… Did the drow feign too much?

Liv’s hand drifted to her medallion. Shit. I can’t just render truth upon a councilman. Her gauntleted finger slid along his desktop’s edge. “It had meaning to our slayer.”

Opening the drawer, Evets withdrew a sheet of parchment. “Considering today’s events, I have every confidence that you and your team will resolve our matters. I am making a writ for you to carry. This’ll allow for easier comings and goings throughout the city.”

A token gesture to redirect.

Liv smiled.

Despite her startled lightning brush, the rain-on-stone outside was calming Liv’s nerves. Yet, here, before his desk…this close, a periodic splish teased from just past the drow. The balcony was behind. Why would… Liv’s smile drifted offside of Evets.

Thin ripples played across a spreading puddle on the floor, abutting the wall.

There was nothing but dome and spires overhead. In all of this opulence, a leak was just out of place.

Liv’s hand slid from the desktop and drifted to her hip. “Glad to have earned Haraden’s trust.”

Above the councilman, a drip flit through the lamplight and splashed upon his shoulder. Liv tracked back up to—

From the shadows overhead, something fell.

An amorphous dark figure collided with the councilman, knocking him onto his desk. The silhouette grappled a hold over him and swept out a curved blade. Its razor edge hooked into the drow’s throat.

Lurching off of his desk, Evets hurled himself against the back wall, colliding with the latched figure.

Liv snatched for her mace.

Shit! Wasn’t there. Back in the garrison locker.

Liv catapulted herself across the desk, piledriving the lamp and strewn papers. Her bronzed gauntlet heaved against the dark leather-banded arm holding the drow and the sickle baring his life.

Smoldering gouts of blackness stared down from over Evets’ shoulder. The weapon-hand yanked.

Kicking from the wall, the shrouded figure drew the sickle up and through the drow’s neck, twisting as it emerged. The gash opened to a spray of fluids and meat.

Evets collided with Liv as they tumbled into the desk. Viscous purple splashed across Liv’s white vestments.

The shroud had been hiding in the shadows of the dome, ready to pounce. Now untethered, she reared up over them. Appendages of darkened bone flared wide as wings of death.

Liv’s inner truth spoke of the sight before her.

Unholy.

Her mace wasn’t her only weapon against abominations like these.

A Lightbringer’s hope is made manifest when shared with the world. Harkening upon the pain lifted from a Nursker alley, Liv held that moment, embraced that joy.

From the dim study, Haraden experienced a sunrise. Her oaken charm coalesced into brilliance, shining rays of divinity. Rising with that light, Liv stepped before the masked shroud, bathing her in radiance.

A black glove whipped at her, flinging a fat-bladed dagger.

The blade shot past Liv and buried into Evets’ face.

No! That’s not possible. Only the most powerful of undead could withstand, much less be able to act in such divine light. Yet, that just— Oh, hell no.

The shroud crouched to receive Liv’s charge.

Smashing her armored shoulder into the figure’s torso, they both trounced against the back wall. The shroud’s other weapon rocked backward, causing a clatter. From