Black Talon (Dragonblood Assassin Book 1) by Andy Peloquin & Jaime Castle

Author:Andy Peloquin & Jaime Castle [Peloquin, Andy & Castle, Jaime]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2023-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

31

Kullen

Kullen awoke to thundering misery drumming in his skull. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d drunk to blackout—while grieving Prince Jarius and Princess Hadassa years earlier, perhaps—but the torment in his head was far crueler than the worst hangover.

He managed to pry his leaden eyelids open, and found light streaming through the tiny window set high into the wall of the underground room. He’d lost consciousness shortly after midnight, meaning he’d slept through the rest of the night and at least some of the day.

Rising from his cot required every shred of willpower Kullen possessed. Had it been up to him, he would’ve buried his head beneath his pillow and remained in the quiet, painless darkness forever. But vicious headache or no, he couldn’t afford to linger in bed. He needed to report the previous night’s events and discoveries to the Emperor.

He found it more difficult than expected to shrug off the lingering effects of overusing his bloodsurge. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so close to being trapped within the Shadow Realm. The memory of the icy threads binding his limbs and the feeling of quicksand dragging at his soul sent a shiver down his spine. He’d be damned careful in the future. He never wanted to feel that again.

Finally, he shook off the last of the chill and set about the task that had gotten him up. Pawing through the pockets of his cloak, he was relieved to find that he still had Magister Issemar’s leather-bound notebook. It wasn’t evidence enough to convict the Magister in a court of law, but that would no longer be an issue. Magister Issemar was standing judgment before Ezrasil’s judgment seat, answering for his sins even now.

Yet Emperor Wymarc would want to know that Magister Issemar had, indeed, been defrauding him—in truth, stealing the supplies purchased to feed the populace. Though the aristocrat was beyond Imperial justice, his complicity could lead to the unmasking of further co-conspirators.

Among whom, Kullen fervently hoped, would number Magister Deckard. The aristocrat’s presence at Magister Issemar’s should be enough to convince the Emperor to allow Kullen free rein. This could very well be the excuse Kullen had awaited for years, ever since Magister Deckard’s lust for the bloodsurge had led to the deaths of countless Imperial citizens and the only people in the world Kullen had truly counted as friends and the creation of the Embers.

That thought was enough to propel Kullen to his feet.

The room was about the size of a multi-prisoner jail cell in dungeons. It would be winning no awards for best decorated or cleanest, but it served his purposes. A bed, fully dressed with blankets and a pillow, a worktable made of rough wood, and a four-drawer chest, each locked with its own combination only Kullen knew. Each item was bolted to the ground.

He took a step and wobbled on legs that ached. Pins and needles coursed through his whole lower half. He resisted the urge to take another stim-pop—it had been partly to blame for his collapse the previous night, and his current miserable state.

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