Elyon Read Online Free PDF Page A

was back to wanting to smack the oversized white bat.
    “Well, go on,” he urged.
    Darsal took a long, deep breath. “If I help Johnis and Marak, the Circle dies. If I take out the priest, it’ll fall on Johnis, Marak, or both.”
    “Or you.”
    “I’m beside the point!” she snapped. “If my death serves the mission, so be it.”
    “Now you sound like Johnis.”
    Darsal ground her teeth. “I need an immediate solution.”
    Even as she said it, she knew what she would do. She was Elyon’s emissary, sent to bring him the hearts of Scabs. Marak was one. Now there were two more.
    “I need to see Johnis.”
    Gabil eyed her but offered no indication on her course of action. “Well, whatever you decide, hurry, as I believe your general is returning. And he’s in a foul mood, I might add.”
    Darsal fingered her pendant, eyes narrow. “We’ll see.”

three
    S ucrow retreated to his chambers and completed the ritual to undo his facade of the young scout. Then he started for the palace to meet Marak and Qurong. As he neared the palace, he spotted Cassak up the road, taking orders from Marak. He sneered, pleased at the obvious rift in their friendship. The captain turned to summon the commanders. Anxious. And foolish to think that he could keep Teeleh’s priest out of the officers’ hall with a simple barricade.
    How easily the loyal dog of the general was enticed.
    Sucrow cackled. “Ambitious little captain, is he not?” He watched Cassak until the captain broke away from the others. Warryn was in place for his next assignment.
    Now for the next item of business. What was that old saying? “That which bends not, break shall.” Marak would bow before Lord Teeleh—one way or another.
    “Let us see what can be done for the captain’s ambition,” Sucrow muttered to himself. “Surely he has better thoughts of glory than his brazen general.”
    Cassak broke off from the commanders outside Marak’s quarters and started back up the street as the others went inside.
    Sucrow followed, slowly catching up. At last he was abreast of the man. Cassak glanced over, a scowl on his face.
    “What do you want?” the captain snapped.
    So angry, this one was. Pleased, Sucrow withdrew a sidna and took a bite. He twisted his staff. A strange light seeped out—noticeable only to those with eyes to see.
    “Warryn maintains you provoked the Eramites,” Sucrow said, still looking ahead. He chewed slowly and swallowed, watched Cassak tense as the spell took root. Oh, yes, already the little charm was doing its work, crawling beneath the skin into the captain’s heart. “But we both know my chieftain has a tendency to exaggerate, don’t we?”
    Cassak’s scowl hardened. His eyes briefly landed on his own palm. Most excellent. Sucrow could barely contain the excitement, the thrill of the hunt, the rush of adrenaline involved whenever his spell fell over a new victim.
    “Of course, I will have to inform Qurong.” Sucrow raised a brow. “What say you?”
    The captain remained edgy. Tendrils of shadow swirled around his throat and constricted. The others never seemed to notice. Curious. Blind, all of them.
    “What’s your game, Priest?”
    “It is not for holy men to engage in petty games, Captain. Rather, we strive to bring instruction and exhortation, to train the sons of men.” Mentally Sucrow recited an incantation, a mantra opening the captain’s mind further to suggestion. Treacherous thoughts that could drive a wedge between Marak and Cassak. A wedge not even an albino wench could remove.
    Marak of Southern wasn’t really all he seemed, was he? Loyalty, integrity, and honor, he’d taught. And yet his loyalty betrayed his family to his supreme commander, then his supreme commander—and his own people—to an albino. What did that say of loyalty, of integrity? And what did his arrogance say of honor?
    Self-imposed honor, perhaps. Naught else.
    Cassak’s gaze fell again to his hand. Of course, by now the little