Death Comes To All (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the city. Not nearly enough to sustain a large
sorvinian, even a half human one.
    Garan
and his companion did not seem to be tiring at all. Drom thought
that, had he not been with them, they might very well have continued
that pace for another day or more without stopping. More than once he
considered changing direction and leaving the two, but he barely knew
where he was. They had not kept to any of the roads after leaving the
city, and Drom suspected that if he went off on his own he might
never find his way.
    He
believed they were heading south, though he was not even certain of
that. Neither of his parents had ever taught him to navigate by the
stars. People who never left their farms did not need to know how to
find their way. They knew every tree, rock, and bush on their land.
What use could they have for knowing how to navigate outside those
borders?
    They
didn't stop for long. Drom would have built a fire and set up camp
for the night if it had been his choice, but these two didn't seem to
have any intention of doing that. They rested in silence, and after
about fifteen minutes set off once again. They didn't stop moving
again until mid-morning.
    When
they finally stopped Drom had no idea how far they had gone. He had
even less of an idea as to where the two planned on going. They had
indeed been traveling south, he had known that for certain once the
sun rose that morning, but he knew nothing beyond that.
    "We
should be safe here for a few hours," Garan announced. "If
we travel due south from here we will be close enough to the trade
city of Lando by nightfall that I can point you in the right
direction. You shouldn't have any problem finding it. Once there you
should be able to travel with one of the merchants heading toward the
sorvinian farm lands. I am right, aren't I? You are a sorvinian boy?"
    “ How
did you guess that?” Drom asked. “I know how I look. I
don’t look like other sorvinians.”
    Or
anyone else for that matter.
    “ It
was your ears that gave you away. The rest of you looks, well, I’m
not sure actually. Human maybe? Still, those ears are pure sorvinian,
through and through. Regardless of your lineage, you’ll be
better off going back home. The world is no place for a young boy,
especially one that stands out as much as you do.”
    "I'm
not going back there," Drom replied sternly. "I didn't want
to live the life of a farmer, and I'm not going to run back with my
tail between my legs now."
    Not
that I have a tail. Just one more thing that makes me different than
everyone else back home.
    "What
do they call you boy?" he asked, ignoring Drom's statement. "I'm
assuming there's a story behind you, and I would be interested in
hearing it."
    "My
name is Drom," he replied, moving over to sit on a large fallen
log. He felt like he needed to sit down before he fell down. "There's
not really any story behind me though. I didn't want to be a farmer
so I left. That's really all there is to it."
    "You
don't look like any other sorvinian that I've ever met. You look like
you should be old enough for your horns to start coming in, yet you
don't seem to have any. Surely a hornless child shouldn't be out on
his own in the world. I would think that it would be better for you
to go back home. Once you're old enough to make such decisions, after
your horns grow in, the farm might seem like a safer, better place
for you than it does now. For young boys such as yourself adventure
seems like a grand thing, at least for humans. I'm sure it's no
different for sorvinian boys. However, as you can see, the world is
far more dangerous than you realized when you left. I'm sure your
parents miss you very much."
    Garan
came over to sit on the log next to him. The strange hooded woman,
who had hardly said a word since they left the inn, sat directly on
the ground several yards away and began cleaning her sword with an
oiled cloth she pulled out of a travel pack on her back.
    Drom
noticed that the two carried only a small