Never (Prequel to The Amber Isle) by Ashley Capes

Author:Ashley Capes [Capes, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: blood, epic fantasy, action adventure, never, curse, quest, heist, treasure hunting
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5.

Never crouched in the depths of shadow on a rooftop, his breathing even as he listened. A wagon rattled on the street below, nearing the artisan’s gate. The gate’s carved panels showed men and women at work building Pacela’s Spire. Midnight cast a silvery-blue tint across the carvings and the square but it was the buildings opposite he studied.

The attack would come from within. Five men, as Julesa claimed, would rush the wagon before the gate opened – which it wouldn’t, seeing as the guards had been paid to keep it closed.

All this Never knew, but still he fought the rush of adrenaline.

His own plan relied on some delicate timing of its own.

He glanced beyond the gates. Hints of the palace itself, overlooking the city from its hill, were shadowy in the night. Its towers dominated the skyline even though few lights glowed from its rows of windows. The scale of it always offered a little thrill – so many rooms. No doubt it took an army of servants to run.

The unpainted wagon finally rolled into the square. Two men only sat at the driver’s seat, a covered crate behind them. “Luck be with you, men,” Never whispered. He slipped along the roof and swiftly descended his rope, then ducked into the recess of a doorway. Movement across the square caught his eye. A glint of moonlight on steel.

The driver leapt down with a grunt, sword swinging at his belt as he approached the heavy gate and rapped upon the door with the knocker. The sound echoed across the night but no-one answered. He knocked again.

Feet thundered across the square as men charged from the shadows.

Never swore – ten men, not five!

Had he been betrayed?

Not now.

Odds had to be evened. And quickly. The curse... there was a chance he could manage it without calling his blood, wasn’t there? The wagon guards were already reacting, moving to protect the relics as two more men burst from cover in the back of the wagon, but even with the two men he’d hired, it still left five to take down ten.

Never charged, knives in hand.

Shouts rose over the clash of steel echoing in the square. Never ran to the first man that had engaged his hidden troops and slashed his knife across the thief’s back, spinning to dodge a blow from another of Julesa’s thieves.

The man sneered as he swung again, and Never danced further back. He feinted and rolled into a crouch, slashing the man’s knee as he passed. The fellow collapsed with a shout. The coppery scent of blood filled the night. Never growled when his own blood stirred within his veins.

No.

On his feet again, he flung a blade at a man who’d raised an axe over his head. It pierced the thief’s side, just beneath the arm. Never didn’t see him fall – he was already running for another struggle, a new knife in hand.

A loud snap rang out.

Pain tore into his forearm. Blood sprayed as he stumbled several steps.

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