Destiny's Rift (Broken Well Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

containing bookmarks made out of anything she’d happened to have lying around at the time. A sash, a leaf, a piece of paper from another book all lolled out from various depths within the pages.
    ‘Those aren’t really mine,’ said Lalenda, as if admitting some great crime. ‘They’re borrowed from the library.’
    ‘It looks like you haven’t finished reading . . . well, any of them,’ observed Losara.
    The Greys finished piling the dusty volumes next to the bed, creating something like an unstable bedside table.
    ‘No,’ said Lalenda sheepishly. ‘Not quite yet. If I had, I’d take them back.’
    ‘There must be . . . twelve or fifteen books there,’ said Losara. ‘And you’re reading them all at once?’
    She shrugged. ‘Books are in no hurry.’
    ‘No, but . . . would it not be easier to finish one and then start another?’
    ‘Do you think me silly?’ she asked, almost challengingly.
    He admired the spark he sensed in her. Oh gods , he thought. She shows more emotion when she thinks her reading habits are being ridiculed than I am capable of mustering in regard to conquering the world. Then, No, no . I have passion too. I don’t want Fenvarrow to fall, I know that through and through.
    ‘Merely curious,’ he said. ‘By all means, build your stack of half-finished tomes up to the ceiling if it pleases you.’
    ‘All the better for Grimra to knock them down!’ hooted the ghost.
    Evening approached, and time for the feast. As they left the room to make their way upwards, worry hovered over Losara. Who knew what Battu had planned? He was not concerned for himself so much, but he had Lalenda and Grimra to think of. He reached out a shadowy hand to pat hers where it clung to his arm. She was nervous about being anywhere near Battu, yet for some reason she’d been determined to accompany him, as if she had something to prove. Of the three of them only Grimra was excited, and swirled past muttering something about quelling the roar of his hunger.
    ‘Listen, both of you,’ Losara said. ‘I want you to promise me something or else I’m sending you away right now.’
    ‘What be this?’ growled Grimra. ‘Grimra wants to crunch the squidgies and squidge the crunchies!’
    ‘Then promise me,’ said Losara, ‘if there is conflict between Battu and myself, you will leave immediately. You will watch out for each other, but you will not try to help me. Is that clear?’
    ‘Do you think there will be fighting, my lord?’ said Lalenda. ‘If you are to kill Battu, I would dearly love to see it.’
    Losara was surprised by her words – but then again Battu had separated her from her mother, stolen her childhood and menaced her for years. Perhaps she was right to want revenge. Perhaps Losara would be too, but he did not desire it with the same hunger he could see in her. There was still hope of finding a peaceful resolution with Battu somehow.
    ‘If it came to that,’ he said, his voice grave, ‘it would not be like some fight in your storybooks, to be experienced from the safety of an armchair. Promise me now, or I will send you back.’
    ‘I promise,’ said Lalenda, pouting slightly.
    ‘Grimra promises,’ said the ghost. ‘And will watch out for precious flutterbug should the need be arising.’ He swirled around them, rustling their clothes and lifting Lalenda’s skirt.
    ‘Grimra!’ she chided. ‘You bad ghost.’
    ‘Me is!’ cackled Grimra. ‘Very bad. Me eats Battu’s head right off his head!’
    ‘Grimra!’ snapped Losara sternly.
    ‘Me gets out and takes Lalenda with me,’ sighed the ghost, and settled down to an eddy.
    They entered the dining hall. On the long table, elaborate candelabra held spheres of softly glowing ice, and the last light of the day filtered in through large chunks missing from the west wall. Battu sat at the head of the table, Tyrellan to his right, and Grey Goblins stood waiting to attend.
    ‘Ah!’ exclaimed Battu as he rose. ‘There you are,