Nightblade: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

from Xain but only felt like the river dragged her backward. So she tried to think of nothing. Fortunately, Loren traveled through a foreign land that lay beautiful in the early morning. She let her eyes roam the rolling terrain and a glow of pink in the eastern sky, focusing her mind upon the land around her.  
    It had few trees compared to the Birchwood, affording her excellent visibility in every direction. She walked atop the line of hills between the Melnar and the King’s road, where she could see the dark line of the Birchwood on the northern horizon. But soon she realized that others could see her as well. The thought sobered her, and she descended the south side of the hills to walk the riverbank instead.
    She could not still her mind forever and at last thought of her father. He had no doubt returned to the village. If the constables too had returned, Father would tell them about his fight with Xain and Loren. The constables would come. She must remain cautious until the memory was long behind her.
    Well before midday, Loren reached the road’s great turn south. It swung left and crossed the river by means of a great stone bridge. She had seen the bridge once as a girl of five summers but did not remember it. Now it robbed her of breath.  
    The stones stood at least twenty feet high from the water’s surface, like river willows given form by human hands and grown from living stone. They joined in great arches that supported the road, curving across the top of the river’s swells like the path of a thrown rock. The bridge stone was dark and wet, the top stones caked with a white crust.
    “How could such a thing ever come from human hands? How could they build such towers of stone in the deep, deep water?”
    Loren realized no one could hear her, and her cheeks flushed, hand creeping back to her dagger.
    “Well, for lack of anyone better, I shall talk to you, then. Though I think the wonder of this bridge is lost upon you.”
    The dagger said nothing.
    “I must give you a name.” Loren glanced over her shoulder. “But perhaps it can wait until I have more time to think and do not fear the pounding of boots behind me.”
    She expected the bridge to shake like the rickety wood-and-rope bridges common to her home. But it stayed solid as the road. It unnerved her to cross the stone and see the water swirl twenty feet below.  
    Immediately, Loren cut off and away from the road. Trees grew plentiful again, and she dipped into the space between their trunks. She kept walking until the ground rose and she could scarcely see the road. Then she struck south, following the road’s straight course and keeping it just on the edge of eyesight.
    In the Birchwood, Loren had often walked beneath trees that stood fifty feet or taller. Here, she barely saw a single trunk that reached more than twenty or twenty-five feet. “Though I am grateful for their company, these trees are bare saplings next to those from home,” she murmured, her finger brushing the dagger.  
    Midday came and went. The sun began its slow journey back to the earth. Loren felt a gnawing in her stomach and reached for the travel sack where her meat and bread waited. But just then, she spotted a telltale patch of brown fur beneath a nearby shrub. Quiet as a ghost, she drew her bow and notched an arrow.  
    Silent she drew, and silent let fly. The rabbit gave a thin death scream.
    She dressed it quickly and struck a small fire. The rabbit tasted delicious, so Loren ate as much as she could—long past the point of enjoyment. Salted meat would last her long if carefully rationed, but on an uncertain road a wise traveler ate sparingly from reserves. She drank carefully, too, taking only a small sip of water.  
    Still limbs brought thoughts of Xain, urgent and unwelcome. Loren pushed down a sour feeling as the meat lost its savor. Soon, she stamped her fire’s dying embers and resumed her trek south.
    The rest of the day passed without event, but she felt