Death’s Disciple: Death’s Disciple: Book One by Emma L. Adams

Author:Emma L. Adams [Adams, Emma L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Holding Niema around her waist as he hovered above the rooftops, Kelan had to admit that while he’d had worse ideas, he’d also had better ones. The war drake’s reptilian form came into sight as Niema’s legs continued to flail beneath him.

“Stop wriggling or I’ll drop you,” he told her. “You’ll have to be clear with your directions when it gets closer. We don’t want it landing in the wrong place.”

“No,” Niema said faintly. “We don’t. If it does, people will die.”

“I’d say the odds are already against us in that regard.” Though they were as likely to fall to their deaths as they were to be eaten by the oncoming war drake if Niema passed out again and lost control over its will.

Niema began whistling again, a strident noise that formed a jarring contrast to the chaos on the ground below. Kelan had managed to use the sky god’s power to knock the mercenaries inside the pleasure house around, but it hadn’t been enough to drive them away. When Niema had whispered her idea to him, he’d been sceptical at best, but he’d agreed to fly her to the city’s boundary so that the war drake would hear her cry.

And the beast had answered.

Now, its vast shadow flew over the pleasure district, and Kelan watched as Niema’s sharp whistle drove the beast into descent. One of the mercenaries let out a scream as the war drake’s claws ripped his head clean off. Blood spurted onto the cobbles, and Kelan stopped short of landing in case he unwittingly got himself decapitated as well. How had Yala ridden one of these beasts into battle, let alone tamed it? That was a question he’d ask later—assuming she was still alive.

Niema’s whistling halted. “Put me down. I have to find Yala.”

He acquiesced, landing outside the pleasure house, and placing Niema’s feet on the ground. Someone had torn down the curtains in the downstairs room, and through the window, he saw a hard-faced woman with a curved knife in her hand standing over the body of Yala’s friend, Machit. Yala herself was on her knees, a sight he’d never have imagined he’d see, but his attention slipped when another mercenary came running at him.

“Might want to look behind you.” He lifted a hand and blasted air at the mercenary, knocking her into the path of the oncoming war drake. Claws bit into the woman’s chest and yanked out her innards, and as she crumpled, the beast’s claws swiped at Kelan’s neck. He skated back, barely avoiding losing his head. “Niema!”

“Leave him,” Niema called to the war drake. “Stop. Don’t attack us.”

Her words became a whistle, but from the pleasure house, he heard a voice, as deep and cold as a bottomless pit.

“I know you.”

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