House of Blades (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

wasn’t in any better condition, but he worked with what he had.
    Eight years ago, he had sworn to protect his family. And now the time had come for him to keep that promise.
      He buckled the sword around his waist, then moved over to the rags beside the door. He reached down and shook them vigorously. “Mother,” he said. “Mother, you have to get up!”
    The rags stirred feebly, and a puddle of sharp-smelling wine rolled out.
    Simon shook harder. “On your feet, Mother, now! We have to get out—” A wooden stick cracked into his skull and white pain blossomed behind his eyes. He fell backwards as his mother crawled out from her blankets.
    She clutched a short walking stick in her hand, though she dropped it immediately to shield her eyes from the light coming in from the door. Her black hair stood up at every angle, and she was covered in grime.
    “What’s all the noise?” she asked. Her voice whispered through a raspy throat.  
    “Raiders at the front gate, Mother,” Simon said. “We have to go out.”
    She didn’t say anything, but groped around with her walking stick and, once she had found the floor, pushed up to her feet and began hobbling toward the door. She was barely five feet tall even when she was capable of standing upright, and when she leaned on her stick she looked fifty years older than she was.
    Sorrow and frustration welled up in Simon’s chest, as usual, but today they couldn’t compete with urgency. He all but pushed his mother out of the door.
    Outside, the air was thick with smoke, screams, and the sounds of combat and furiously barking dogs.  
    Simon grabbed his mother by the shoulders and guided her between houses. The smoke burned his eyes, and he began to cough. His mother still didn’t seem to know where she was; she giggled to herself and swayed on her feet. Obviously this wasn’t just the alcohol, then; her disease had returned. Now, of all times.
    Through a veil of smoke, Simon saw someone’s dark outline running toward them, clutching something in its hand. He thought it was a sword. Simon spun his mother behind him and stood between her and the stranger, determined to keep her out of harm.
    The figure pushed through the smoke. It was Leah, holding a bloodstained sword in one hand and coughing into the other. Her crystal bracelet gleamed in the firelight.
    “Simon,” she said hoarsely, “there are too many of them. We have to go now.” She gestured with the sword for him to follow and headed back into the smoke. Simon tried to chase after her, pulling his mother behind him, but she dragged her feet and refused to budge. After a few seconds, she began to scream, a harsh, ear-piercing wail.
    Simon clapped a hand over her mouth. No one could likely make out one scream among all the others, but who knew? He wasn’t going to take any chances with soldiers. They might want slaves, and a woman’s cries from down a dark alley would draw slavers the way screams of pain would draw jackals.
    His mother bit down on his hand, hard. Her teeth sank into the flesh of his hand, drawing blood, and he set his jaw against the pain. He had no time for this. Besides, this was hardly the first scar his mother had given him, and it wouldn’t be the last.
    Letting her chew on his left hand, Simon scooped her up under his right arm and hauled her along after Leah’s quickly-vanishing silhouette.
    It didn’t take long for Simon’s arms to begin burning, even under his mother’s slight weight. Terror kept him moving forward, and the fact that, during the times when she stopped and turned to check on them, Leah didn’t seem tired at all.
    Their run was quick and brutal. Every second Simon had to choke down another mouthful of smoke, and he couldn’t help but imagine a huge soldier with a bloody sword in every shifting shadow. His legs began to ache, his arm burned, and the pain in his hand throbbed. He was so focused on forcing one leg in front of the other, over and over, that he almost