Crown of Dragonfire Read Online Free PDF

pale
creature leaped forth, lashing curling fingernails that must have grown two
feet long.
    Tash yelped and jumped
back.
    The creature hissed,
its teeth gone. Only thin strands of hair grew from its scalp, and its skin
clung to bones, nearly no fat or muscle on its body. Wretched wings grew from
the beast's back, a few scattered feathers still clinging to them. Its one eye
was gone, and the other blazed with hatred, the pupil shaped like a sun.
    Tash thrust her spear,
goading it back. She cried out, "Gimosh! Yes, Gimosh!"
    Please don't let the
guards outside hear.
    The creature inside
squealed, and Tash's spear lashed against its arm. With a wail, it retreated
back into the cell. Tash grabbed the door and began to pull it shut.
    She paused.
    Her eyes dampened.
    She thrust her spear
through the doorway with all her strength, digging her heels into the floor,
impaling the poor creature's heart. The seraph—or at least, the creature that
had once been a seraph—let out a gasp . . . a sound almost thankful. It
collapsed to the floor.
    Tash spun away from the
cell, spear in one hand, keys in the other. She gazed across the hall.
    "Gimosh!" rose the voice
of a guard outside the dungeon. "Gimosh, care to share her?"
    Tash cursed. "Let him
have his fun first!" she shouted at the door. "You can be next."
    She moved across the
craggy corridor, gazing at the cells. Twenty or more lined the walls, and each
could contain another wretched, rotting creature. Which one did Meliora
languish behind? Tash dared not call out the princess's name.
    Orange light caught her
eye.
    Tash spun toward a
cell. The light rose around the doorframe.
    The light of
dragonfire.
    The light of
Requiem, Tash thought.
    More than anyone in the
palace—more even than the mightiest lords and ladies—the pleasurers were the
mistresses of information. Every man who visited her den spoke his secrets, and
Tash knew that upon Meliora's head no longer shone a halo of golden light.
Meliora the Merciful was now crowned with dragonfire.
    Tash stepped toward the
cell, placed her key into the lock, and pushed open the door.
    Meliora stared back at
her.
    Many times in her life,
walking through the palace to visit this or that lord, Tash had seen Meliora
from a distance—a tall, beautiful seraph, her wings pure white, her halo
golden, her skin fair and her eyes shining, her body shimmering with jewels.
Ahead of her now stood a woman Tash barely recognized. Meliora's hair, wings, and
jewels were gone, and dried blood and dirt stained her body. She wore only
burnt rags. Yet her eyes were still strong, fiery with life—seraph eyes. Upon
her head crackled a new halo, woven of red and orange flame.
    "Tash," she whispered.
    Tash's eyes widened. "You
know my name, my lady?"
    Meliora nodded. "I've
seen you wander the palace. I know about the . . . pleasure pit. I've often—"
    The lock on the iron
door—the one leading into the corridor of cells—rattled.
    "Gimosh! Gimosh, you
done in there?" rose the voice of the guards.
    Tash hissed. "We're
about to have company." She shoved her spear into Meliora's hands. "Know how to
use this?"
    "Stick it into people?"
Meliora gave her a wan smile.
    "That's the gist of it."
Tash knelt and lifted her hookah; the liquid spice still bubbled within over
its embers.
    The iron door creaked
open, and the two guards stepped into the dungeon.
    Tash ran toward them
and lobbed her hookah across the corridor. The glass vessel shattered against
one guard, spilling boiling liquid. The seraph screamed, his wings caught
flame, and he fell.
    Meliora raced forward
and tossed her spear. The projectile flew across the hall and its blade slammed
into a guard's thigh. The man cried out and fell. Eyes narrowed, lips tight,
Meliora ran closer, knelt, and lifted the fallen spear.
    The guard raised his
own lance.
    Meliora knocked it
aside and thrust her spear with a cry. The blade crashed into the guard's neck
and emerged from the other side.
    The burnt guard on