Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) Read Online Free PDF

that had trapped her.
    She turned away from the horrible sight and meandered through her father’s study where he’d transcribed his notes and spent his leisure time reading. She trailed fingers along the cool leather of his favorite chaise and remembered the countless evenings she’d spent watching him catalog his work and the discoveries he’d made. Gone.
    She turned angrily from the room and scrubbed the wetness from her face with a sleeve.
    Humans. She scowled.
    The Mageborn Books. A bitter feeling grew within her. . . .
    Gildhorn!
    Betrayed.
    Gildhorn was the formal name given to the leader of the elves living in the southeastern lands bordering the trade river. Her stomach churned and something within her hardened. They’d been betrayed not just by one of their own but by one who held power.
    Bitterness grew to anger, then flamed into revenge before all three feelings mixed together. “I need to get out of here.” She spun around, stiff with fury. Wishing she knew how to farspeak, she stalked out of the room, glancing out of windows as she went. How much time did she have before the Humans returned? Anger made her blind to everything around her as she sped toward the back of the house. Thoughts catapulted around her head as she hurried down the back stairs. She focused intently so that her rage did not overtake her.
    Where to go? She wondered as she zipped down the last flight of stairs. She’d need to pack food. Enough to last at least two weeks. She flung the kitchen door open in front of her and stumbled to a halt at the disastrous sight that met her eyes. Having been blind to it before while searching for traces of her family, she wasn’t prepared to actually see the fine details of destruction. The rest of the house was in similar shape. But this sight was enough to push her even further over the edge. All of her mother’s fine china had been dashed to pieces. Bits of the beautiful porcelain lay scattered across the floor, so lay the crystal, and the drinking glasses. Even the silverware had been bent out of shape, some of which had been rammed into the walls. The place was a mess.
    She shook off her shock, pushed her wounded feelings to the side, and tensely moved into the room. Careful not to cut herself, she skirted her way across the kitchen intent on seeing if any of the food stores were left intact. But then she paused, first in confusion and then in surprise. One cupboard in the room remained closed.
    “Oh please, let it still work.” She dashed the rest of the way across the room. Inside the cupboard was an archaic messaging system that had fallen out of use ages ago, too blunt, indiscrete, and obvious for everyday use. It operated with an absolute lack of nuance unless you had the mastery to control it and send a more complex message. It had no subtlety at all since it broadcast widely, which happened to be a strength, not a weakness, in her situation. It’s most important feature? The feature that had ensured that it was installed in every home built during wars past? It was simple enough for even a child to use. A tool created in a time of war so that anyone could send word no matter the skill level.
    “It must have been hiding,” she whispered reverently as she ran her fingers along the smooth light-colored wood, searching for the catch. She’d never dared to open it before and she now hoped the device hadn’t been gutted or disabled.
    She carefully pressed an inset piece of wood and the door popped ajar. She drew the door open and looked inside at the board. Words and numbers were carved along the top half of the space and jeweled stones of various colors were embedded directly to their left. The bottom half of the space was covered by a blank sheet of copper where her message would appear as she composed it. She hoped it worked.
    She let out the breath that she’d been holding, reached out, then softly trailed her finger along the name of her home which had been carved into the top of