Dragonshade (The Secret Chronicles of Lost Magic Book 2) by Aderyn Wood

Author:Aderyn Wood [Wood, Aderyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-06T22:00:00+00:00

Qisht’s words proved correct and in the days that followed, Danael’s health was nearly fully restored. It was the burn wound to his upper arm that bothered him most, and Qisht told him it would take longer to heal than the other cuts. Danael took to walking the palace terraces, and marveled at the effect of the Reaping on the city. At home, in Estr Varg, snow drifts would be as high as a man in parts. Higher. There was no snow here in the desert, but the thick slabs of ice that covered everything in straight-angled blocks was nothing short of amazing.

On the third day since he woke, his friends came to visit him. After they gave him jibes about sleeping in the princess’s bed, Danael begged them to take him out into the city, to explore the effect the darkness was having there, and escape the confines of the palace. Qisht protested about the dangers, but they assured him they would be safe enough from demon and assassin alike. Ru and Tizgar showed the servant their swords strapped into their belts, while Varashti brought out the little idol of Phadite he kept on a string about his belt and under his skirt. “The goddess will look over us.”

Nanum slapped him. “Better than looking over your balls, Varashti.”

Qisht tutted them and told them to be back before the noon bell.

The city was eerily quiet. In Estr Varg the village bonfires would burn tall and long, and every rondhus would place flame-lights on their walls and candles in their window cutouts. But here in Azzuri, the city was kept as dark as possible. Only about one in every ten city lamps burned, and those that did glowed so low as to cast the smallest ring of dim light.

Tizgar carried an oil lamp to light their way through the dark alleys and streets. Danael suggested they get a large blazing torch, but the others shook their heads.

“Too much light attracts the demons,” Alangar told him.

Danael scoffed.

“Don’t laugh about it, barbarian,” Ubranum said, his charming smile gone and his handsome face unusually serious. “We don’t want to tempt them.”

“Yes,” Ru replied. “They say the Reaping has already claimed over fifty souls.”

“Mostly the elderly, though, like Nanum’s dear old grandmother.”

Nanum grunted.

Ru shook his head. “It’s taken children too. Tizgar and I walked to the river yesterday, it was full of the little rafts with little bodies, and mothers wept quietly on the shore. The priests at Praeta will be busy come the new year.”

“And their pockets will fill with gold,” Ibbi chimed in.

A renewed solemnity fell over them as they explored the bazaar. Every trading, tea and beer house remained dark and lifeless, so different to their usual noisiness. Thick ice had sealed the doors shut, and Danael hoped no one was locked within, suffering some illness from the Reaping, unable to summon the priests for help. He asked his friends if they should try to open the doors in case.

“No,” Lu shook his head.

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