Pixilated Read Online Free PDF

headed north
into the woods. The tracks of a single horse with a tiny gryphon
engraved on its shoes intersected and partially obscured those
prints. The answer to his puzzle was moving north, and so was
Katie. The staggered erratic footprints suggested the person he
followed might be injured, and whoever that person was, he made no
effort to conceal his trail. Broken branches marked the route as
clearly, as if someone had posted a sign reading, "This way." The
captain walked slowly leading Storm by the reins.
    Deep in the forest, a horse nickered.
Dropping Storm’s reins, Kree drew one of his fighting knives and
advanced through the trees at a crouch. Fifty paces farther, he
crossed a deer path where he found a bit of pink ribbon caught on a
branch. His heartbeat accelerated, his muscles tensed. Up ahead the
horse nickered again. Kree moved through the trees parallel to the
deer path until he came to an opening in the trees and spotted
Kayseri sitting on the path. Mercenaries in the woods, murder on
the road, and Katie right smack in the middle of it, meant only one
thing. Mischief.
    Relief washed over him, an odd feeling given
the circumstances; he should be angry. He promised himself he would
be as soon as he had time. Right now, he had a puzzle to solve, and
the elf, whose head rested on Kayseri’s lap, was the missing piece.
Kree stepped out onto the path.
    "Katie."
    If pixies had wings, Kree would have sworn
she flew into his arms babbling about the elf being a prince and
mortally wounded. After a swift inspection to make sure Kayseri was
unhurt, Kree cleaned and stitched the elf’s head wound while Katie
told him of their encounter. The elf remained unconscious, a
blessing really considering the cut was deep, and Kree's kit did
not contain origanum. He never carried any. Pain told him when to
quit the field, a thing a man high on Goddess nectar might not
realize. The elf’s other injuries were minor, a cut here, a bruise
there. By the time Kree finished cleaning them, he had regained
consciousness.
    Kayseri pressed Kree’s flask to the elf’s
lips, but the pointy-eared prig spit the amber liquid on the
ground. His pale eyes glared at Kree. "I am Eldren of Thallasi,
Son-heir of the Fourth House, Envoy of Allon, Sar el Thallasi."
    Are you now? Kree rehearsed various
titles in his mind. He owned a butt-load of them. He could say he
was a Goddess-born Gryphon or he was Captain of Qets Garrison. He
could say he was the Knight Protector of the Qets frontier, but
with the fellow being an elf prince and all, he opted for the title
guaranteed to give the most offense.
    "Kree Fawr, bastard." He sucked his teeth.
"Nice to meet you."
    Kayseri’s shocked expression provoked a
quick crooked grin Kree was certain the elf saw as cocky. Let him.
"That’s good dwarf mead you’re wasting, elf." He took the flask
from Kayseri and offered it again. "Does more to restore a fellow
when swallowed."
    Eldren shoved his hand away.
    "Suit yourself." Kree took a quick swallow,
wiped his month with the back of his hand, and slipped the flask
back into his field kit. "Is that your carriage back on the
road?"
    Eldren narrowed his almond-shaped eyes into
slits. "Where is the Nhurstari?"
    Nhurstari? That race had died out before
the Stars fell into Elhar. Kree frowned. "What?"
    The Thallasi prince raked a slender hand
through pale blond hair. It trembled. "I speak of the other
elf."
    "Ah." Maybe not. Interesting . "I’m
sorry for your loss."
    Eldren bowed his head. A sigh escaped him.
Beyond that, he held his silence.
    "What business does a pair of elf lords have
in my frontier?"
    The prince gave him that narrow-eyed look
again, the same look he had given him when he had asked about the
carriage. The look said the elf did not want to tell him
anything.
    "The Nhurstari lord and I were transporting
a gift from my people to his. Humans overpowered us and stole the
gift. I must recover it."
    Interesting. Out of the corner of his
eye, Kree saw