Finnikin of the Rock Read Online Free PDF

into
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    Charyn: one a wasteland, the other an enemy. Outside the exile camps, the poverty in Sarnak was the worst in the land, and two years past, armed Sarnak civilians had unleashed their wrath on Lumaterans camped on their southern border, a slaughter the king of Sarnak refused to acknowledge or condemn. And why would he, Finnikin thought, when there was no one to demand it except the First Man of a slain king and his apprentice from a kingdom that no longer existed?
    On their first night in Sarnak, Sir Topher chose a place to set up camp deep in the woods. They would use it merely as a resting point to collect provisions and then move on. There would be no fire to keep them warm. Nothing to draw attention to themselves. Nothing to make them prey to a desperate people who needed someone to blame for their suffering.
    Sir Topher and Finnikin made careful plans. They were not like the exiles who huddled in camps, waiting for someone to return them to Lumatere or for the captain of the King's Guard to escape and save the day. Finnikin knew that if they wanted their people to survive, they needed strategies that would push them forward. Despite their detour into Sendecane and the presence of the novice and her extraordinary claim, he and Sir Topher were on a mission to find a piece of land for the exiles. And they always had a plan. Never a dream.
    Sir Topher decided that Finnikin would go to the marketplace to purchase enough food to see them through to Sorel.
    "Take the girl," Sir Topher said. "They worship Lagrami here. They're less likely to bother a novice and her companion. But don't let her out of your sight."
    The town was a labyrinth of stalls and alleyways. More than once the novice seemed to become disoriented and wander in the wrong direction.
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    "Listen," Finnikin said firmly. "Stay close and do not lose sight of me. Do you understand? Nod if you understand." She nodded, but he wasn't satisfied.
    "This whistle, I want you to listen for it in case we do get lost." He whistled a birdlike tune. Twice. Just to be sure she understood. He watched her for a reaction, but there was none.
    "I don't expect you to learn it. But listen for it."
    She nodded again.
    The sun was beginning to disappear, and vendors were packing up their wares. Finnikin walked over to purchase their supplies. A few moments later, he heard a furious cry and turned to see a young boy disappear into one of the alleyways. As he turned back to the vendor, he saw the novice stumble to her feet in a daze, but before he could call out to her, she was off in pursuit of the youth.
    Stupid, stupid girl. In a moment's frustration, he hesitated. It was a perfect opportunity to leave her behind so he and Sir Topher could continue on their way as planned. His mentor had promised him they would go searching for Trevanion's men this autumn. This was his chance to go south, where a group of exiles had once reported seeing the Guard. But Lumatere had lost enough of its people to Sarnak, and before he could stop himself, he threw down his coins and raced after her.
    Within a short distance, the alleyway branched out into a cluster of five others, each already seeped in darkness, indistinguishable from one another. Using instinct, Finnikin took the middle one, a mistake he realized too late when he found himself turning into yet another, which seemed to fork out into more and then more--never-ending high stone walls that seemed to conquer the light of the moon, forcing him to turn back until he lost track of where he had begun.
    "Evanjalin!"
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    He caught sight of a flicker of her robe as she disappeared around a bend. He had smelled her fear when they arrived, had sensed the memory of her family's death in Sarnak in every tremble of her body.
    The light was disappearing fast. He called out her name as he ran after her, but there was desperation in her movements as she disappeared again and again. Finally she was brought to a stop by a dead end. But there was