Nemesis and the Troll King Read Online Free PDF

travel to Nemesis and seek the truth.”
    Yarg raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘we’?” he asked quietly.
    Dylan’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “Of course I’ll be coming with you,” he said.
    Yarg gave a smile that revealed his long, pointed teeth, and Dylan was instantly suspicious. “Thank you for coming to tell me all this, but you must realise that this journey is mine alone to make, and alone I shall make it,” Yarg said.
    Dylan opened his mouth to argue, but Taliyard beat him to it, shouting in horror: “No, my king! You surely doesn’t mean to leave us.”
    Yarg growled deeply in response. “We all need to know the truth, Taliyard. In my absence you will be in command. Your word will be law. Understand?”
    Yarg stood up. Ignoring Taliyard’s stricken face, he turned his gaze in turn to every troll in the hall. “ Understand ?”
    One by one their heads dropped in acceptance of their king’s decree. Finally Yarg’s eyes met Dylan’s.
    Pasting a stiff smile on his face he said, “Come, mortal, I want to show you something.” He walked away, not looking back to see if Dylan was following him. Dylan stared at Yarg’s back for a full minute before he followed his brother.
    Mumbling loud enough for only Yarg to hear, he said, “I am going with you …”
    Yarg smiled, even though Dylan couldn’t see it. He didn’t want to be a mortal, but he did like this human.
    He led Dylan to the back of the hall, stopping when they reached the end. Putting his hand on a panel in the wall, he whispered some words beneath his breath.
    Dylan blinked in astonishment as a door, disguised as part of the wall, opened to reveal a small room lined with rough and uneven bricks.
    Yarg walked into the room and Dylan followed, sneezing from the dust that their entry had kicked up. Yarg looked over his shoulder at the sound, and then moved towards a corner of the room.
    Dylan looked around, keen to see what this strange room contained. It was lined with roughly-shaped slabs that formed stone shelves and tables. Upon each table lay a treasure. The table closest to him held musical instruments, some beautifully carved from wood, others moulded from silver and gold. A few of the instruments he had never seen before, and he had reached out his hand to pick one of them up when Yarg called out: “Don’t touch anything!”
    Shaking his head, he pulled back his hand and moved to the next table. This one housed an assortment of engraved cups and bowls. Nestled between them was a beautiful dagger, its handle encrusted with jewels that sparkled in the dim light despite the dust that coated them. Dylan stuck his hand in his pockets to stifle the temptation to pick it up, and forced himself toward the next table.
    On this was laid an assortment of old witches’ brooms, coated in dust so thick it must have been a very long time since anyone had used them. Sneezing again, he moved on to the next table. Feathers of all colours and sizes littered its top. Dylan moved his eyes over them, wondering why anyone would need so many feathers.
    What he saw on the next table made him catch his breath. Four sets of tiny, exquisite, transparent wings lay before him, each set dazzlingly unique. Dylan had never seen anything remotely like them, and this time he had to curl his fingers into fists to prevent him reaching out to stroke their gossamer beauty. The wings shimmered and shone, glowing as if with a life of their own, inviting and enticing him.
    Dylan looked over to where Yarg was standing at a table in the corner. His brother was holding an old book covered in tendrils of spider webs and a thin layer of dust.
    As Dylan watched, he opened the book and placed it back down on the table. Then he began writing something down, all the while whispering to himself. Dylan shook his head and turned his attention once more to the wings.
    â€œHow