Underworld: Rise of the Lycans by Greg Cox

Author:Greg Cox [Cox, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Horror, General, Media Tie-In, Fiction
ISBN: 9781439155936
Google: nwq_f9LoRmgC
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2009-04-13T12:00:00+00:00

The castle archives were Tanis’ exclusive domain. Centuries’ worth of ancient scrolls and manuscripts, many dating back to the very birth of the coven, were squirreled away in the numerous wrought-iron pigeonholes lining the walls. Literacy being both rare and underappreciated in these benighted times, few besides Tanis ever consulted the dusty chronicles. Which was just as it should be, as far as he was concerned. There were secrets buried in the archives that were best left undisturbed.

At least for the present.

The scribe sat at his desk, diligently chronicling tonight’s memorable events on an unrolled sheet of parchment. Inkwells and goose quills cluttered the desktop, alongside loose scraps of paper, leather-bound tomes, and other scholarly paraphernalia. A flickering beeswax candle had burned down almost to its base, the melted wax spreading out like a greasy fungus across the bottom of the candle holder. A penknife waited to sharpen the points of the quills as required. An empty goblet needed refilling.

Pausing to dip his quill in an inkwell, Tanis yawned and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long night and he was eager to retire to his own quarters, but he felt compelled to record the day’s happenings while his memory was still fresh. The devil was in the details, as the saying went, and he was loath to let any crucial nuance be lost to history.

Now then, he mused, how best to describe Janosh’s untimely demise?

Inspiration struck and he put pen to paper once more:

“The insolent mortal, whose overweening pride and avarice led him to forget the sacred obligations he owed his liege, met his just reward when Lord Viktor, in all his awful glory, smote him before the transfixed gaze of his entire court. The varlet’s brains were dashed against the unforgiving walls of the great hall as the mighty Elder delivered swift and terrible justice to the unworthy noble….”

Intent upon his literary efforts, the scribe failed to hear the stealthy approach of footsteps behind him—until a powerful hand suddenly grabbed him by the collar and flung him against a nearby rack of scrolls. The impact rattled the dusty shelves. Something cold and sharp pressed beneath his chin and he looked down in alarm to see a long steel dagger at his throat. Sonja glared at him, her unsmiling face only inches from his own. Cold brown eyes threatened him with instant extinction. An armored elbow dug into his chest.

“What have you told my father?” she demanded.

Tanis suddenly regretted taunting Lucian earlier. His brain raced feverishly to fashion a suitable response. Should he confess to his knowledge, or feign ignorance? It was hard to think clearly with a knife at his throat.

He did not answer quickly enough for Sonja, who nicked his skin with the edge of her blade. A trickle of blood ran down his neck, mingling with the cold sweat breaking out across his pallid flesh.

“What have you told him?”

“Nothing,” he insisted. The murderous look in her eyes convinced him that lying to her would be a very bad idea.

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