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

a final snort, he turned, thundering along the trail toward the safety of
the paddock and the other horses who picked up on his distress and shifted and
nickered in restless discontent.
    The hilt of her
sword bit into her hand, Ashayna studied a distant line of trees, expecting to
see glints of silver against shadowy trunks as armored lupwyns flooded out of
the darkness. The sound of the men’s voices raised in alarm was the only
indication of danger, of something moving beyond them. Yet her eyes could see
nothing. No army of beasts, no weapons, nothing but the darkness of the night.
    Prickles of
power washed over her like rain. Now she knew what had spooked her gelding.
Foreign power sunk below Ashayna’s skin, past blood vessels and muscle, seeping
into her bones. Her own magic flared, eagerly examining this new power.
    Barely a hand’s
span above the ground—in a swath wider than several horses riding abreast—the
air rippled, making her queasy. Then, as though a torch had been applied to
pitch, the air exploded into twin columns of fire, each burning with a white,
unnatural light. The force of their creation blew Ashayna’s hair back; wind
whistled through the tents, kicking up a smattering of dust. Two columns of
light bathed the entire camp in a strange illumination, brighter than the full
moons.
    Officers
bellowed orders to soldiers, and the dull, metallic sound of weapons being
drawn echoed throughout the camp. Distantly she heard Captain Nurrowford shout
her name, ordering her to fall back, but Ashayna couldn’t take her eyes off the
wall of magic. Ashayna stood enthralled by the spectacle as her Larnkin merged
power with the columns. She gasped at the rush of magic flooding outward. A
small, quiet part of her mind was grateful her magic remained invisible. The
columns’ strange white fire intensified, leaping across empty space, taking the
shape of an arch. Towering over them, it continued to grow, to gather power—until,
with a great resounding clap of thunder, it shuddered, the flames dancing
through the night. Her Larnkin trembled, but continued to feed power to the
arch, wanting, needing something Ashayna did not understand. Falling back a
pace, she shook her head to clear it of the echoing noise and eyed the arch
with greater concern. It looked stronger but less stable, and it continued to
hemorrhage power.
    Men shouted,
horses screamed. The air was heavy and thick with the stench of fear, of blind
panic, and of magic. Queen Marsolwyn’s urgent calls rose above the storm. “Run.
The Gate’s gone rogue. Run, now!”
    A deep, rending
sound issued from the archway, like the creaking of a falling tree that twisted
and groaned as it broke and began to fall. Ashayna shook free of her Larnkin’s
peculiar desires. Instinct gored her. She turned and ran. A clap of thunder
rumbled across the camp, shaking the ground and heaving her off her feet.
    Flashes of
magic, like forked lightning, bombarded the camp. One hit a poplar at the edge
of the paddocks. The tree exploded in a burst of leaves and wood fragments.
Horses screamed and bucked. A few horse archers pursued their mounts, while
others simply tried to keep themselves and their mounts out of harm’s way.
Closer at hand, a group of heavily armored men-at-arms were making their way to
her position.
    Another bolt
slammed through the abandoned line of tents, shredding or snapping everything
in its path. The canvas of the nearest tent smoked around the edge of a
substantial hole. By the haze curling out of the interior, it looked like magic
could spawn true fire. Soldiers huddled on the ground, keeping their focus upon
the arch, trying to estimate where the next strike would fall before they began
moving forward again. A new, higher-pitched hum emanated from the arch.
    Kandarra
dropped next to Ashayna, her wings flowing over the ground. “You should see
your face.” The phoenix chuckled, her shoulders shaking with the force of her
mirth. “Don’t worry,