Duel of Fire (Steel and Fire Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

cave as Dara dressed in her usual practice gear of soft gray trousers, training boots, and a darker gray blouse. The cut was more masculine than her mother liked her to wear outside of the dueling hall, but it moved easily and hid the sweat. Dara twisted back her long golden hair and put on a deep-blue cloak. It was too hot for the cloak inside, but the farther she got from her father’s workshop, the more she would need it. It may be summer, but it was always cold on the mountain.
    Dara slung her gear bag over her shoulder, slipped out of the house, and hurried down the stairs from their porch. Only the howl of the wind and the thud of her boots disrupted the silence. A dozen of her father’s lanterns lit the boardwalk, which soon met a winding pathway leading down through the Village and all the way to Fell Bridge. The darker it was, the brighter the Fire Lanterns glowed. The city was often shrouded in mist, and they needed the lanterns during the daytime as much as the night.
    Vertigon was built on a grand mountain topped by three steep peaks: King’s Peak, Square Peak, and Village Peak. Dara’s family lived on Village Peak. It was divided from King’s Peak by a gorge lined with orchard terraces. The tallest buildings in the Village were just level with the base of the castle on top of King’s Peak. Square Peak was the shortest and widest of the three, located across a much deeper gorge called the Fissure. All three peaks were connected by dozens of bridges spanning the Fissure and Orchard Gorge. Wooden staircases and stone steps cut into the slopes connected the homes and shops built around the three peaks.
    The narrow canyon leading out of the Fissure was the only true access to the city high up the mountain. The precipitous cliffs surrounding the rest of the peaks made the city remarkably easy to defend. It had been no simple task for the Founders to build their mountaintop citadel, but once it was established no one was foolish enough to attack it. They had to import any supplies and food not found on the mountain, but the Lands Below were desperate for its primary export—the Fireworks—and they were willing to pay handsomely for the magical objects.
    The Village stirred fitfully at this early hour. The clop-clop of mountain goats and the rustle of pigeon hatcheries arose as Dara descended from the rocky heights where the Ruminor dwelling was located. A few miners crossed her path on their way to work, and sleepy bridge guards headed the other way, home to their beds in the humble wood and stone houses scattered up and down the slopes of Village Peak. The smell of roasting pigeon, berry pies, and fresh-baked bread drifted from the market, located a bit lower on the slope between the entrances to Fell Bridge and Furlingbird Bridge. Smoke wafted out of the Fireshops, which dotted the Village like glowing goals.
    Dara waited for Berg by the bridge, jumping up and down to warm her muscles. Fell was the widest of the bridges across Orchard Gorge connecting the Village to King’s Peak. Berg would have to cross from Square Peak first. He lived near his school, which, like many of the dueling schools, had been built on Square because it had more level space than the other two peaks. It was also home to the king’s army and a motley patchwork of orchards, cave dwellings, and breeding farms for goats and mountain ponies.
    Dara was nervous about her sparring match with the prince. She had never met Sivarrion Amintelle. When she had seen him standing with his two younger sisters, Selivia and Soraline, beside their father, King Sevren, at official festivals, he usually looked bored. She hadn’t even known he could duel. She remembered what her mother had said about his reputation for drinking in the parlors in Lower King’s, worrying this excursion would end up being a waste of time.
    Sivarrion’s father, King Sevren, was the Third Good King. His family had presided uncontested over the mountain for a hundred years.