The Blood King Read Online Free PDF Page A

rescue Bava K’aa from the Obsidian King’s stronghold.”
    She shook her head. “The effort killed King Argus, and badly injured Alyzza.
    Her mind was never the same afterwards. Bava K’aa barely sur-vived. Elam was Bava K’aa’s healer, and Elam wouldn’t let anyone else near your grandmother, even though it took a long time to heal her. Elam performed the marriage between Grayson and Bava K’aa when your grandmother was barely recovered from her injuries. And Elam delivered Bava K’aa’s child—your mother, Serae,”
    Taru said with a glance toward Tris.
    Outside, the bells tolled eight times. Taru looked at Tris and Carina apologetically. “I know you’ve barely had a chance to get warm and put down your things, but we’re due in the council cham-bers,” Taru said. “You’ll be formally introduced, and Sister Elam will present your first trainers. Your challenges begin today.”
    Carina took a half step forward. “Who will be in the council chamber?” Tris had the sense, as he had often felt at Westmarch, that Carina and Taru’s acquaintance stemmed from somewhere before this present quest.
    Taru gave a half-smile that did not reach her eyes. “Some friends—and others I’m not sure about.” She paused. “Sister Elam was the same age as Tris’s grandmother. She took over the leadership of the Sisterhood after Bava K’aa’s death.”
    “Sister Landis will be Elam’s successor,” Taru said neutrally, but Tris saw a shadow of distaste color Carina’s face. “She was one of the younger mages at the time of the Mage War, and she often clashed with Bava K’aa over the role of the Sisterhood. Landis’ assistant, Alaine, may have recently given her reason to reconsider. Alaine was staying with another of our citadels when it was overrun by Jared’s troops. She barely escaped.”
    Taru drew a deep breath. “And then there’s Theron.”
    Carina muttered something that Tris did not catch.
    “Theron will be one of your trainers,” Taru said. “She comes from Eastmark, and so her style may be similar to what you’ve learned from Kiara and Jonmarc.”
    Taru frowned. “You may find that com-pared to Theron, Jonmarc’s training style is merciful.”
    Merciful, Tris thought wryly. An odd word to use. Considering the pounding I’ve taken in the salle from Jonmarc, that doesn’t bode well.
    Tris drew a deep breath, fighting his fear. Sweet Chenne, what have I gotten myself into? He knew that his real enemy was time. It was less than a fort-night before the Crone Moon, the last month of the year. The Hawthorn Moon at mid-year was just seven months away. There was very little time to prepare.
    Tris knew what his failure would mean. Kiara delivered into Jared’s control, a thought that made his blood run cold. Jonmarc and the others hanged for treason. No relief for Margolan, and no justice for the wretched souls under Jared’s yoke. War, as Jared and Arontala sought to expand their bound-aries among the Winter Kingdoms. If he could prevent that future, Tris was willing to risk the con-frontation—even if it cost him his life. But Taru raised the thought that death was not the worst out-come, and the possibility that he might be possessed, his power used against his will, hardened Tris’s resolve. He felt a coldness wash over him that had nothing to do with the chill in the corridor. Taru was right—there was no alternative.
    The citadel smelled of candle wax and herbs, with the musty scent of long-unused rooms. Taru stopped in front of two iron-bound double doors. The sound of raised voices carried through the heavy doors. While the words were not clear, the passion of the women’s voices was evident. One voice, higher in pitch, sounded angry. The other voice, low-pitched and measured, seemed resolute. Taru grimaced and rapped loudly at the door. The voices stopped abruptly, and Taru gestured for the doors too open.
    Creaking heavily on their hinges, the doors slow-ly swung backward. Inside,