Rend the Dark Read Online Free PDF

the muscles
ached, but still the shaking continued. He hoped the others had not noticed.
Ferran led the way through the twisting paths of the forest. There was
something about the way he looked at the ground, picking their way through the
forest, that reminded Hil of the hounds his father had used to hunt back home.
Hil never enjoyed hunting. He found it even less to his liking right now, when
he couldn’t tell whether he was with the hunters or the prey.
    Behind Ferran was the warden. Aker was checking the ground,
searching for any sign. It was said that a warden knew every tree and blade of
grass in the marches under his authority. Watching the warden move through the
forest, Hil could almost believe it.
    Yesterday, Hil would have thought being under the direct
scrutiny of a King’s Warden would be the worst danger possible. But yesterday,
he also hadn’t watched a man die without any expression of pain on his face. He
hadn’t seen the body of a man burst open from within. Yesterday, he had feared
for his career.
    Today, he feared for so much more.
    Riffolk came next in their line, and despite his friend’s
bold words and confident posture, his hand had not strayed far from the hilt of
his blade.
    Ferran stopped the group once more. “The path is well worn.
Enough feet to be the bandits we faced, as well as smooth spots worn into the
brush.”
    Riffolk leaned forward to look where the witch hunter
pointed. “Dragging plunder?”
    Wiping his hands on his legs, Ferran stood. “Or victims,”
he said, turning back to the trail.
    Hil closed his eyes. Everything these people said,
everything they talked about was the stuff of nightmares. For the thousandth
time, he wished he was back at his desk. Comfortable, warm, safe. He stumbled
on a downed branch and opened his eyes, forcing himself back to the harsh
reality of his current situation.
    As he opened his eyes, he saw Mireia looking at him. Her
long brown hair was pulled back from her face. She gave him a radiant smile. It
was genuine and light and seemed utterly incongruous with the frightening
madness of their current situation. “You’re doing quite well,” she said, her
voice soft and gentle. “All things considered.”
    Hil stopped in his tracks. “How can you do this?” he asked,
the question slipping from his lips. He could not stop shaking his head, and he
felt his twitching fingers again against his thigh. “How can you live like
this, surrounded by the fear and the horror?”
    There was kindness in her face as she reached out and
touched his arm. Mireia held his gaze as she asked, “Do you know the tale of
Aedan and Talan? How they drove the demons down into the Abyss?”
    Hil nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “Every child does.”
    Mireia continued walking, and Hil moved with her. “That
Abyss, that pit, is real,” she said. “And the Ruins banished there are real as
well.”
    His mouth fell open and Hil stared at her wide-eyed.
“Real?” he almost choked on the word. “What if those creatures try and get out?
Try to escape?”
    “They do try,” Mireia said, her voice calm. “There have
been two major risings in my lifetime. Many more minor ones. They try often.”
She gave him a smile. “But they never succeed. Our order has spent over a
thousand years in our vigil over the Abyss. It is a prison unlike any other and
it is constantly being built upon and improved.”
    She paused for a second. “There is a man, an acolyte like
us, stationed down at the lowest level,” she said. “He lives a solitary life.
Down in the very depths of the Abyss itself.” Mireia turned back to Hil. “And
he has the single greatest responsibility in the world. He is the first person
the creatures will encounter when they rise. And when they do, he knows he
cannot win. His fight, as brief as it might be, serves only to warn the next
station up, and so on. His duty is to die. So that others, and perhaps the rest
of the world, may live.”
    “That is so