Forged In Death, Book 1 of The Death Wizard Chronicles by Jim Melvin

Author:Jim Melvin [Melvin, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: BelleBooks, Inc.
Published: 2012-08-19T22:00:00+00:00

Something kicked him in the face and sent him tumbling into the teeth of the obsidian. When his sight cleared a few moments later, he saw a stout figure looming over him. Flames flared from its flat nostrils, smoke seeped from its pointed ears, and its hide had the texture of an elephant halfway turned to stone. The creature had grabbed the sword from Torg and now held it in one hand while waving a spear of obsidian in the other. The beast brought the black volcanic glass to its mouth and began to chomp on it, as if snacking on an ear of corn.

“You killed my father,” it said. “For that, I will enjoy a long-awaited revenge. But first, I have promises to keep.”

Several other Stone-Eaters stood nearby.

“Give him a sip of Asava,” Gulah said. “We need him alive, but barely. He could still be dangerous. Do not underestimate him, despite his pathetic appearance.”

One of the Stone-Eaters lifted Torg’s head and poured scorching liquid down his throat. He felt like he was swallowing lava. Though his stomach burned, strength surged through the rest of his body, along with a drugged weariness. Soon afterward, sleep strode forward and claimed him. He could not resist it.

Torg did not know how long or deeply he slept, but he regained partial consciousness several times and was able to look about. Gulah and his fellow Stone-Eaters had strapped him to a crude litter and were dragging him across the rocks. It was a bumpy ride.

More of the Asava was splashed into his mouth. He gagged, but Gulah slapped his hand against Torg’s lips and forced him to swallow. Once again, Torg felt the odd combination of strength and weariness. It was the first nourishment of any kind he’d received in almost a month. But more than anything, he craved cold water. If he could take a long drink and pour the rest over his head, he might be able to shake this drowsiness.

Again he slept, but his dreams raged out of control. A particularly wicked thud shook him awake, and he looked up and saw they were approaching the mouth of a large cave in Asubha’s sheer side. Several Stone-Eaters stood guard at the maw of the cavity, as well as an enormous troll who shied from the bright sunlight. There also were three women, two extremely beautiful and one extremely ugly. Warlish witches . . . just what he needed.

But the Asava—whatever it contained—had re-energized Torg’s spirit. Though he was drugged and barely able to move, he felt his body responding internally to the sizzling sustenance, increasing his desire to resist.

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