A Crown Of War (Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

move against him.”
    She released Dirk and gazed upon her palms as she shifted to spirit form. “No matter your words, the truth remains unchanged. My hands are stained with the blood of the innocent. I will wash them in the blood of tyrants.”
    She stared at her hands as they glowed bright. Dirk understood little about the powers of spirits; only legends attempted to explain such matters, and they were seldom reliable. Aside from her new ghostly powers, it seemed she retained her ability to perform magic, as she still possessed her father’s gifts of power.
    “ Krentz,” said Dirk loud enough to reach her in her current state of concentration. She jerked her head as if she thought herself alone.
    “ These are times of war my love.” She hummed and stroked his hair. “Together, we shall be a force to be reckoned with. I am done running and hiding. I have already given my life. What is left, but my very soul? I would see it redeemed.”
    “ As would I,” said Dirk, “as would I.”
     
    The remainder of the day was spent repairing the enchantments upon Dirk’s cloak and gear. His darts she replaced to the best of her ability with materials gathered from the nearby forest, and, though she possessed no dragon’s breath, there were other means with which one of knowledge and skill might create explosives.
    Long into the small hours of night, she wove her spell work by firelight. Chief watched curiously for a while. He soon became disinterested, however, and seemingly disturbed by the occasional swirling light or sparks of enchantment. Krentz poured forth large amounts of energy into the embedded gems within Dirk and his gear; his cloak alone contained thirteen gems.
    At some point in the night, Dirk fell asleep as he watched Krentz empty herself into her work. He was always fascinated by the elven craft, and though Krentz taught him enough to be able to use the enchanted weapons and trinkets, he showed no magical proficiency. Dirk Blackthorn’s abilities lay in other areas, and they were many.
    D ue to Krentz’s recent proclamations, Dirk understood he would not be getting a good night’s sleep any time soon, so he took advantage of this last opportunity. All morning and early afternoon he slept soundly, knowing Chief was guarding the perimeter and Krentz was nearby. His dreams were haunted by the echoed exclamations of the drunkard from Helzenvargen. In the town, the strange fortune teller had called Krentz a harbinger of death. In his dreams, one word played over and over: wraith .
    Dirk awoke with a start when an explosion ripped through the day. He quickly found its source in Krentz’s guilty laughter.
    “ Apologies,” she laughed, as she put the newly made wooden darts into their holsters on the bands Dirk wore around his legs.
    “ I needed to test one,” said Krentz with a mischievous grin.
    Dirk lay back on his bed of moss and leaves with a sigh. He was startled by the blast, but relieved to be awakened all the same. His dreams had shifted from the fortune teller’s hissing accusations to images of the mother and child, the blood steadily dripping from the petals of a black rose. He was not afraid of her, but rather, afraid for her. He never possessed the faith of a religious man, but recent events caused him to rethink his beliefs. He, like everyone else within earshot of a town pub, had heard numerous stories of ghosts and spirits, but he never witnessed anything that convinced him either way. The wards he trapped Chief within had been learned out of the insistence of Krentz; Dirk had never taken them seriously until he saw the spirit wolf with his own eyes.
    If spirits existed, then reason dictated that the gods and heavens were real also, as were the hells. He found no solace in the idea of gods and rules, nor heavens or hells. He liked the world wild and the afterlife a mystery.
    He had contemplated dismissing Krentz to the spirit world for months, years even, until the wars ended and the dangers