Covenant's End Read Online Free PDF Page A

over.
    What had once been a large covered wagon lay beside the road, reduced primarily to planks and kindling. Here and there, though, protruded recognizable bits; a largely undamaged wheel, half of the driver's bench. The canvas tarp that had protected the vehicle's contents hung limp from a spur of wood, the heavy material rustling modestly in the wind.
    It had, when intact, required a two-horse team to pull. One of those horses lay, still partly harnessed, as broken as the rest of the wagon. The abnormally cool spring meant that relatively few insects were out and about, but those that had found the equine buffet buzzed in offensive contentment.
    Of the other horse, or any riders and drivers of a more bipedal nature, there was no sign.
    Well, no sign other than the wide swathe of disturbed dirt and crushed underbrush where something had been dragged from the road.
    Between that, and the almost comically large puncture wounds in the dead horse—it looked like it had been shot with multiple ballista bolts—Shins had pretty well given up on her earlier skepticism.
    â€œRight. So. Monster it is, then.”
    Grudging agreement from her partner.
    â€œBut, hey, the timing couldn't be better. This had to have happened pretty recently, yes? So whatever it is, it's off somewhere. Busy. Probably not hungry.”
    Less grudging agreement.
    â€œPerfect time for us to just continue on by, be on our way home in safety.”
    Emphatic agreement, now.
    â€œNo reason whatsoever for us to get involved.”
    Olgun continued to agree. Shins continued to stand at the edge of the road, gazing at the trail, and very obviously not going about her merry way.
    â€œYep. Going any minute now.”
    Air wafted over them. Insects buzzed. Feet failed to step.
    Oh, figs. “We're both really, really stupid.”
    And back to grudging agreement again.
    She hesitated a moment more, long enough to dig through her gear and recover the heavy pistol she'd confiscated from the first of the robbers who'd interrupted her travels. A quick juggle of powder and ball to load the weapon, and she was off, creeping low through darkening woodland.
    Not her preferred environment, no, but avoiding protruding roots or loose leaves wasn't too different from creaky floorboards or crunching gravel. Between her own aptitudes and Olgun's assistance—warning her of an obstacle here, muffling the sound of a cracked twig there—her advance was quiet enough.
    Her first hint that she was drawing near was the scent of smoke; rich, woody, redolent with roasting meat. It actually smelled pretty good, though Shins didn't have much of an appetite under the circumstances.
    â€œGuess we know what happened to the other horse,” she muttered.
    Flickering lights, glimpsed through the foliage, guided her closer.Widdershins ducked beneath a pair of crossed branches, dropped even lower so her crouch was more of a duck-waddle, and peered around a pudgy thumb of a stump.
    A large campfire crackled angrily away, feeding on moist, snapping tinder that belched thick plumes of smoke in its death throes. Over the fire hung a primitive spit, little more than a branch on two rough Xs of wood. Shins couldn't clearly see the hunk of horse flesh dripping grease to sizzle in the flame, as it was already heavily blackened and veiled in smoke.
    From across the encampment, a frightened whinny drew her gaze. The missing horse—a speckled roan, bits of its torn harness still wrapped around its chest—tugged frantically at the rope that bound it to a neighboring tree.
    But if the horse was over there , then what…?
    Widdershins's gaze flickered back to the roasting meat, and she felt her stomach turn inside out.
    â€œOlgun…” Barely a croak.
    She felt the god's power tingling in her gut, settling it enough that the nausea wasn't overwhelming so that she could bite it back and not give away her presence with a loud retching. Even so, it was a near