Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

friend in time to
see apprentices summoning a Gate. Born of twin columns of fire, the newly
emerging Gate stretched across the courtyard. Its two ends curved and joined at
their uppermost peaks until it blanketed the entire east wall in liquid power,
forming a flaming archway big enough for six santhyrians to walk abreast.
    Sorntar was
about to congratulate the apprentices when the Gate flared. A cold, silver
energy arced across its surface. He’d never seen such a sight. A chill radiated
off it in waves, penetrating his shields and sinking below his skin.
    Thunder ripped
through the courtyard. A stronger flow of power poured forth from the Gate,
hammering everyone within reach. A young lupwyn apprentice standing too close
yelped and collapsed in the boneless manner of the unconscious.
    Sorntar rushed
to her side and arched his wings, trying to absorb more of the magic to prevent
permanent damaged to the youngling. In less than ten heartbeats, the Gate
morphed into a seething monster of brilliance and rage. Pale tendrils flailed
out from its center. One brushed the feathers of his crest, narrowly missing
hitting him in the head. He scooped up the fallen lupwyn and leapt into motion.
He’d barely made it three paces when a burning cold tendril coiled around his
ankle. A strong tug, a sickening blur of motion and he was moving. A breath
later he slammed into the ground with bone jarring force.
    Dazed, he
blinked and looked up to see his bodyguards surrounding him. One guard took the
lupwyn from him, while another fought to pull him free of the tendril’s grip.
The Gate pulsed again, then lashed out. It slapped guards and delegation
members aside like hapless dolls. As fast as it had come, the maelstrom of
power ground to a halt. Silence, broken only by soft panting, echoed across the
courtyard.
    Sorntar blinked
up at a purpling night sky. Lifting his head, he winced. Pain flashed through
his brain. Almost in the same moment, the Gate tightened its grip on his ankle
and heaved. A renewed surge of panic flooded Sorntar’s body. Then he felt
it—the slow spread of heat through his blood as his Larnkin came to full
awareness. It didn’t fight the Gate, instead surveying the scene, calming and
stabilizing the rogue Gate’s chaotic magic. With a sickening clarity, the Larnkin
gathered itself, power flowing through him like a tidal wave…every ounce of it
focused on the Gate.
    * * * *
    Ashayna rubbed
at her eyes, but the night-shrouded landscape didn’t come into any better focus
as she led her gelding towards the prisoners. Fear tangled her thoughts. Did
her father still live? How would she cope without him? She needed a plan but
her chaotic thoughts kept distracting her. Silently, she cursed the sentience
in her blood. A Larnkin they called it. The power stirring with newfound intent
in her blood could only be one of those creatures.
    Once she had
reported back to Captain Nurrowford with the news that a delegation was on its
way, he had ordered her to ride with their prisoners. Her return route took her
along the river. Wind rustled in last year’s bulrushes and caressed trees,
shivering their leaves. The tranquil beauty of this place would be something
she’d miss, if she lived to miss anything.
    She scanned the
area between the river and camp, noting everything seemed ready. Horses were
saddled, riders gathered the few remaining things they would carry with them.
Both foot soldiers and horse archers were already breaking camp. Ashayna would
follow with the prisoners, leaving the heavy cavalry to protect the flanks and
rear.
    Her thoughts
were interrupted with the sudden explosion of terror from her gelding. His eyes
rolled in his head, muzzle tightening, teeth bared. Screaming a warning into
the night, her horse reared, hooves pawing at the air. Again and again the
gelding reared, his hooves tearing into the ground as he danced beside her.
Ears flattened, he tossed his head, ripping the reins from Ashayna’s grasp.
With