A History of Magic (The Last Great Hero Book 2) by Scott J. Robinson

A History of Magic (The Last Great Hero Book 2) by Scott J. Robinson

Author:Scott J. Robinson [Robinson, Scott J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-06T22:00:00+00:00


-O-

Some people claimed the bazaar was the largest market anywhere in the world and Rawk had never seen anything to make him disagree. It was a sprawling, twisting maze of a place that seemed to be never ending. Daza Parade ran more than a mile down the middle and the entire length of it was filled with four rows of canvas stalls and pavilions that, as far as Rawk could tell, had been there as long as the buildings along the sides. There were dozens of side streets filled to overflowing with goods from around the world. He heard a dozen languages in the first five minutes. The scent of spices striped the air as he walked; sweet, bitter, sharp; hiding the stench of people.

Rawk picked his way through the crowd. He avoided eye contact, but still seemed to shake every second hand and wave to everyone else. There were some children trailing along not far behind and it was only a matter of time until...

“Rawk,” a girl tugged on his arm, “tell us a story.”

“I can’t right now, sorry.”

“Oh.” The look on her face made Rawk feel as if he snapped her pet stick and thrown it on the fire.

“Sorry.” He shoved a coin in her had and kept going, past Thif’s Well and up the gentle slope to a run down tavern called Happy John’s. A fight spilled out onto the street, two men rolling, arms wrapped about each other, too drunk to do anything that required coordination. Rawk danced around the commotion and slipped through the gathering crowd. Sylvia complained about humans as they started down the far side. But a moment later she came to a sudden stop and fell silent mid-sentence. She had her hand on his arm and he could feel the tension in her grip.

“What is it?”

“A portal just opened.”

“Where is it?”

“Close.” She looked around and a moment later a dozen creatures, like two-foot high, feathered monkeys dashed from an alley in pursuit of a terrified dog. The dog continued down the street, ears back, tail low, but the creatures stopped. They looked around, chattering amongst themselves. The crowd backed away, clearing a space around them. Then, as one, the monkeys seemed to pick the weakest target. The young elf boy, basket of fruit in his hand, didn’t stand a chance.

Rawk swore. He drew Dabaneera and charged forward, cursing his knee and the fleeing people, but had barely halved the distance when the boy was torn to shreds.

Sylvia could have done something, Rawk thought as he let out a battle cry.

Dabaneera cut through the rear-most monkey and it fell without a sound. Or maybe it just couldn’t be heard above the boy’s agonized screams. Rawk laid about him, sending arcs of blood. His shoulder ached from his wound. His knee throbbed but he barely noticed until he had dispatched four of the creatures.

After that the others finally noticed they were under attack and turned their attention to him. The biggest one stooped down to collect an apple from the basket the boy had dropped.



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