Third's Tale by Jonathan Moeller

Author:Jonathan Moeller [Moeller, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Adventure
ISBN: 1230001984026
Amazon: B0771W5FQH
Goodreads: 36512505
Publisher: Azure Flame Media, LLC
Published: 2017-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5: The Harvester

The next hall was a sculpture gallery.

Third stopped a few paces beyond the entrance and looked around. The hall was as large as the first one, and forty plinths stood in neat rows across the floor. Statues of pale white stone rose upon each of the plinths, images of dark elven nobles in armor or in robes, swords and staffs in hand. It seemed the mansion’s original owner had a taste for dark elven art, either acquired through trade or looted from dark elven ruins.

A pale blue glow shone from the archway on the far end of the hall. The archway opened into a narrow, high corridor, and the blue light came from the walls of that corridor.

Nothing moved in the statuary hall. Third took a step forward, half-expecting the statues to come to life and attack her, or for undead creatures to emerge from hidden doors, or for urvaalgs to emerge from concealment and strike.

But nothing happened.

Third took one more step, and then a robed shape appeared before the archway to the glowing corridor.

She went motionless.

The figure wore a ragged robe of simple black, the hands concealed within large sleeves and the face hidden beneath the deep cowl. Third wondered if it was undead, but she saw the faint ripple in the cowl as the figure beneath the robe drew breath.

“So,” said the robed form at last in a soft, thick voice. “You are the latest one that Klothalin has sent to kill me?”

“I am,” said Third.

“Foolish girl,” said the robed figure. “You cannot kill an immortal. For I am the Harvester, and I have lived for centuries upon the slaves of the dvargir.”

“You make three mistakes, Valgerius,” said Third.

A wet laugh came from the cowl. “Indeed? Do elaborate.”

“One, you are not immortal,” said Third. “Two, your true name is Valgerius, once an Eternalist and an outlaw Magistrius of Andomhaim.” A faint hiss of contempt came from Valgerius’s cowl. “Three, I have not been a child for a very, very long time.”

“No,” murmured Valgerius. “No, you are not a child. I don’t know what you are. A hybrid of human and dark elf, clearly, yet such hybrids rarely make it to adulthood before they transform. You seem to be an exceedingly rare creature.”

“People tell me that often,” said Third, considering her next move. It would be easy to transport herself across the statuary hall, appear behind Valgerius, and open his throat. Yet the wizard might have warded himself against attack. For that matter, Third had no doubt that he had watched her fight with the undead in the dining hall, and he would know about her abilities now. Surely, he would not be so foolish as to put himself in her reach without any defensive measures.

“You ought to be flattered,” said Valgerius. His hands emerged from his sleeves. They were long and thin and bony, the skin gray-tinged and pale. “The immortal blood of the dark elves burns within your veins. I have never devoured a dark elf before.

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