Destiny: Child Of Sky Read Online Free PDF Page B

door opened, spilling blindingly bright light into the dark chamber, along with arid heat.
    'Your Grace. We have arrived in Keltar'sid. His Grace, the Blesser of Sorbold, has an honor regiment here to greet you."
    He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Keltar'sid was the northern capital of Sorbold, the mustering ground for the Sorboldian armies that fortified the northern and western fringes of the Teeth. It was a city-state of soldiers, a most intimidating place unless one was traveling under the banner of a church or religious sect.
    It was exactly where he wanted to be.
    'How very kind,“ he said. The cultured voice of his human host felt silky to his ears. His demon voice, the one that spoke internally, without traveling on the wind, was much harsher, like the crackle of an ominous flame. "Express our thanks while I alight, please."
    He smiled and waved away the hands extended in the offer of assistance and stepped out of the carriage; his was a somewhat elderly body, but spry and still with some remnant of youth's vigor. He had to shield his eyes from the gleam of the sunlight. Though fire was his life's essence, it was a dark fire, a primordial element that burned black as death, not bright and cheery as bastard fire did in the air of the world above. He could tolerate the sunlight, but he did not like it.
    A contingent often Sorbold guardsmen stood at a respectful distance, their swarthy faces set in masks of somber attention. He smiled beneficently at them, then raised his hand in a gesture of blessing. He struggled to appear nonchalant. This moment was, after all, what he had come for.
    Softly he whispered the words of ensnarement, the sub-audible chant that would bind the men to his will, if only temporarily. Anything more long-lasting would require more extensive eye contact, more direct interaction, than would be appropriate between a visiting holy man and a troop of foreign guardsmen. To ensnare one permanently he would need to take some of the soldier's blood, but all of them appeared healthy and without wounds that needed a healer's blessing. Ah, well.
    The threads of the snare, invisible to all eyes but his own, wafted toward him on the warm wind, anchored shallowly within each of his new servants. He caught the threads with a subtle gesture that seemed nothing more than the hand motions of his blessing. He could see that the thrall had taken hold in their eyes; the glimmer of dark fire within them that his prayer had summoned was evident in the glint of the sun. He smiled again.
    This was, after all, the sole outcome of the visit to Sorbold he had intended.
    Anything else that resulted from the long and arduous journey was a boon.
    He already had what he wanted.
    The column leader approached, followed by four men bearing the poles of a white linen canopy—Sorbold was known for its linen—and another low-level aide-de-camp carrying a tray with a water flask and a goblet.
    The soldier bowed from the waist.
    'Welcome, Your Grace." With a gesture he directed the other armsmen around the visiting holy leader. They immediately raised the canopy to shield him from the sun, eliciting a warm smile and a twinkle in blue eyes without even a trace of red.
    He accepted the goblet of water and drank gratefully, then returned it to the tray.
    The soldier carrying it withdrew a few steps to be out of the way, but near enough if the guest of state had need of it.
    'I'm afraid I bear awkward news," said the column leader haltingly.
    'Oh?"
    'His Grace, the Blesser of Sorbold, has been detained at the sickbed of Her Serenity, the Dowager Empress. The benison extends his fervent apologies, and directs me to offer you escort to the basilica at Night Mountain, where he will be returning once the empress is no longer in need of his aid. I am directed to make you and your retinue comfortable."
    The soldier's black eyes glittered nervously, and the holy man suppressed a laugh.
    The Sorboldian tongue had little familiarity