The Dragon Thief (Sorcery and Sin Book 1) by DePaoli Justin

Author:DePaoli, Justin [DePaoli, Justin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Conduit Books
Published: 2017-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

“What do you think?” Oriana said, crossing her arms over the front of a tight-fitting dress made of midnight-blue silk with crushed sapphires sparkling across the plunging neckline.

Rol stood back and whistled sharply. “That’s what I think.”

She snapped her head to the side in a you-can’t-be-serious gesture.

“What?” Rol said innocently. “You look damn fine, that’s all.”

“I’m not talking about the way I look! I mean our plan. Think we can pull it off?”

Rol went over to the cottage window. He pulled aside the drapes and peered out into the bustling estate. Cages of chickens were being stacked ten high, bound by rope. Foodstuffs were being hauled out of the enormous root cellar and packed tightly into wagon beds. Both blacksmiths—doubling as carpenters—and all three leatherworkers were busy fixing up reins, cobbling together wagons and wheels, stitching tarps to cover perishables in case of rain.

“Never seen the place so lively,” Rol remarked.

“Me either. Everyone seems to have bought in.”

Rol closed the drapes. “For now. But we’ll need a better plan than taking a long walk to the Blue Coast and sitting by the waves all day.”

That was the plan she’d told Rol: they’d travel east, till they reached the Blue Coast, some hundred miles from Torbinen. The journey would take almost two months. She would cast an illusion there, keep them safe for a while. The Blue Coast, she’d said, offered them warmth and plenty of food. What she maybe hadn’t confessed to Rol was that the second part of her plan would begin from there.

The illusion was to be a temporary hovel, not a permanent one. As soon as they were settled, she’d fly across the sea on the wings of Sarpella and land on Baelous’s shore. With any luck, her good friend Catali—the rogue member of the Conclave—would still be alive, and she could learn what the clutches were planning. That they’d look to reclaim their whelps was obvious, and their intention of invading Avestas was as close to obvious as you could get without slipping into sure thing territory.

But Oriana needed to know the hows. Would they come for their babies first, or would the assault take place at the same time? Would they look to take Avestas or scorch it? Most importantly, would Avestas face only the wrath of dragons, or had the clutches subjugated the Conclave to bring with them sorcery? Neither option was particularly appealing, but the latter would be far more harrowing.

“Okay,” Oriana said, putting both hands on Rol’s shoulders. “I better get going. Maybe I’ll bring back a piece of duck or a chunk of mutton if no one’s looking.” She winked and smiled.

Rol clapped his hands and boinged. “Oh my! You know me so well.”

Oriana laughed, leaned onto the tips of her toes and kissed Rol’s cheek. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be waiting. Hopefully the feast doesn’t end in five different declarations of war.”

She chuckled. “As long as that doesn’t happen and no one dies, I’ll consider the night to have gone well.

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