From the Myths of Kings by Abigail Hair

Author:Abigail Hair [Hair, Abigail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Tezrus’s question was soon answered when a swarm of Grivur’s underguards returned to the prison block several hours later. They brandished onyx spears they wouldn’t hesitate to use if one of them so much as looked the wrong way. They wore identical uniforms the color of stone, perfect for blending into cavern walls and melting into shadows.

One of the guards unlocked Saoirse’s cell door and hauled her up from the floor by her shackles. She jerked forward and nearly collided with the opposite cell before he yanked her back like an animal on a chain. She fought against his grip, but the metal bit into her skin with every movement.

“Where are you taking us?” she managed to ask between her clenched jaw. The guard said nothing, merely flashing a glimpse of teeth as white as his waxen skin.

Behind her, Neia and Hasana were dragged from their cells. The underguards left Tezrus locked behind bars. He crawled over to the cell door and curled his gnarled fingers around the iron, his eyes terror-bright as the soldiers escorted them from the prison block.

“Where are you taking us?” Saoirse asked again, her breaths going shallow with fear. She could feel the tip of a sharp spear level with her spine, ready to impale her at a moment’s notice.

“King Grivur has invited you to dine with him in his hall,” one of the guards sniggered. “Seems you’re his honored guests.” Saoirse’s stomach churned, but not from hunger.

“Guests who wear chains?” Hasana hissed.

The flock of underguards chortled and shared knowing glances with each other. Their eerie laughter sent a bolt of fear shuddering down Saoirse’s spine.

As she crossed the threshold of the prison’s exit, a black hood was once again slipped over her head to prevent her from learning the way out. Blinded by the opaque fabric, her other senses came alive. The fall of the guards’ boots against stone, the sharp jangling of their chains, and the screech of rusted hinges opening all screamed in her ears. Hot breath brushed against the back of her neck as the soldier behind her leaned in. His breath smelled of sour milk as he whispered, “When you learn what’s in store for you, you’ll wish that you died in the Tournament, little siren.”

Her heart plummeted. It seemed Larken’s prophecy was about to come true. They would soon learn what it meant to be pawns in the game of courts.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.