By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

scarcer than in past years.
    The “miracles” were discussed freely among the villagers when they believed they were too far out of earshot for a normal human to hear. Without seeing her in action for himself, though, Caerwyn had no way of knowing how she achieved her results. She could be conning them with sleight of hand and practiced platitudes. Or she could be employing darker arts to twist the villagers to her will.
    Humans had no inborn magic. They could not call on inherent Attributes or their connection to the Earth and the Goddess she embodied like Milesans. In order to gain magic, they had to steal the power from other sources. Some used only the force found in herbs and stones to effect mild changes. Perhaps that was all the Lady was doing.
    Few, if any, ever stopped there, though. The siren song of power was too tempting to deny for most who started on that slippery slope. They soon graduated to larger and larger sources of life force until they steeped themselves in blood magic and evil.
    From the sounds of it, either “the Handmaiden” was delusional and believed she could heal the sick, she was pulling a fast one on her people, or she was using some level of sorcery. If that was the case, with Hafgan's stronghold only a stone's throw across the border into the Warlord's lands, it was too much to be a coincidence. Particularly considering the game she seemed to be playing with Daen.
    He needed to meet this Lady and see for himself precisely what she was up to. Which meant he needed to find a job before the villagers ran him out of town with pitchforks and torches.
    He moved down the main thoroughfare, looking for some place he hadn't already tried to find work. The wide, hard-packed road running through the village wound its way north from the border of Daen's kingdom and was surprisingly busy. The village itself bustled with life and energy.
    He started to step out to try his luck in the shops and buildings on the other side when a cacophony of noise and shouts registered in his ears. A driverless cart careened into view, barreling down the center of the street with a wild horse in the lead, eyes rolling, hooves churning.
    "Horsey!"
    The high-pitched, childish shout caught his attention over the oncoming clatter. A brief impression of a tiny, fragile body and blond curls were all he needed before instinct kicked in, driving him into action. His shoulder hit the ground first when he scooped the child into his arms. He ignored the pain, forcing his body to continue rolling even while he felt the displaced air of the powerful hooves flailing inches from his flesh.
    He only uncurled when the hard thud of hoof beats receded.
    "It's all right, little one. You're fine. A few bumps and scrapes but you'll be good as new in a couple of days."
    Caerwyn sat on the hard-packed dusty ground, cradling the child and crooning nonsense in an attempt to calm the hiccupping sobs pouring out of her.
    Or, perhaps, to calm himself. The rushing sound of his heart continued a deep staccato in the back of his head and his muscles remained locked. His whole body formed a tense coil, ready to launch into action at the slightest provocation.
    The footsteps coming quickly from behind did nothing to ease nerves that had been drawn tight since he'd first seen the little girl running directly into the path of danger.
    With preternatural grace and speed, Caerwyn rose to his feet, twisting to face whatever threat approached and shifting the little girl so his sword arm was free.
    Of course, he wasn't wearing his sword. And the pale, trembling woman reaching for the girl did not seem to be a threat of any kind.
    Pudgy little arms reached back and the sobs that had been slowing crashed into full-throated wails and she practically leapt from his hands into the warm embrace of the woman.
    "She's fine," he assured the woman, who frantically tried to look at and touch every inch of the child at once. "A few bumps and scrapes, but nothing permanent.