Spinner of Lies (Sword of the Gods Book 2) by Bruce R. Cordell

Author:Bruce R. Cordell [Cordell, Bruce R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786959952
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

THE CITY OF AIRSPUR, AKANÛL

20 LEAFFALL, THE YEAR OF THE AGELESS ONE (1479 DR)

CHANT MORVEN WATCHED WAVES BREAK ON THE SHIP’S prow and collapse behind the speeding vessel. An hour out of the Bay of Airspur and already the Akanûl coast was a haze across the southern horizon of the Sea of Fallen Stars.

The pawnbroker squinted, for the dozenth time, at the elaborate wooden sculpture below the bowsprit. The figure’s shimmering green scales did nothing for its modesty, though he supposed any ship called Green Siren deserved just such a fantastic figurehead.

But a painted and lightly enchanted piece of wood couldn’t hold a candle to the very much alive and angry queen standing at the ship’s prow. The queen’s stained leather armor and cape weren’t royal finery, but they bespoke martial competence and elegance in one go. The cape flared in the wind of the ship’s passage, cracking with occasional tiny lightning sparks. The ship’s captain stood near the queen, playing with his pipe and yelling occasional directions to his crew.

Leaning along the rail, Jaul and Riltana traded off-color jokes. Riltana obviously had a far larger wealth of material to draw upon than poor Jaul. As for Demascus, he alternated between staring out at the sea and frowning at Arathane’s profile. Chant shook his head. If he’d been the recipient of the regent of Akanûl’s recrimination, he’d do more than frown. He’d cry.

When the queen had appeared at Demascus’s home, she’d been seething. Chant imagined she’d had to restrain herself from slapping the deva when he finished his ritual and emerged from his chamber. She made an acid comment about how she hoped Demascus’s sleep had been restful, because the Four Stewards were drawing up war declaration documents against Tymanther for lack of any alternate intelligence on the mining disruption! Ouch.

The deva didn’t offer any excuses about pursuing vampires, about the Demonweb, or about a ghost of a past victim doing who knew what with a necromantic artifact. He’d merely said, “Now that the storm is blown over, the ship I chartered can take us out to the mine.”

Electricity rolled down the queen like water. “I’m going with you.”

“That would—” began Demascus.

“Because otherwise, how will I know you’ll actually go to the island? You might get distracted by a big fish or a boat race on the way.”

Chant saw Riltana wince. The queen wasn’t the master of colorful invectives like the thief, but Arathane’s barbs dug deeper.

Demascus’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. We can use another sword.”

Spear, not sword, thought Chant as he looked at the queen’s armament. But he’d learned a long time ago that wry observations are not always appreciated in the spirit in which they’re offered.

Thankfully, Jaul remained too awestruck by the ruler’s presence to offer up any witty repartee of his own. He was like Chant that way, but less practiced with the tact. So they raced across the sea, sails straining and resentments simmering. Onward to an uncharted place Arathane called Ithimir Isle.

Captain Thoster cleared his throat. “Anything in particular I should be on the lookout for, Your Royal Highness?”

The queen sighed.

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