The Cloud Roads Read Online Free PDF Page B

still hard to focus on, even this close. Moon dug his heels into the paving, scrambled away from it, and hissed in defiant reflex. It had brought him up here to tear him apart, but he wasn’t going down easy.
    His vision flickered, as if the dark form was suddenly made of mist and smoke. Then it was gone and a man stood in its place, a tall, lean man with gray hair and strong features, his face lined and weathered. He was dressed in gray.
    Moon stared, breathing hard. Then he lunged for the man’s throat. The burst of renewed fury only got him to his feet; the man stepped back out of reach and Moon collapsed to his hands and knees.
    Between one heartbeat and the next, the man shifted. The great dark form crouched, spreading its wings. Moon flinched back, but it jumped into the air. Wincing against the sudden windstorm of dirt, he saw it soar out and down, vanishing over the side of the battlement.
    Another shifter. Moon swore and sat back, rubbing sweat and dirt out of his eyes. The manacle was still on his wrist, the chain dangling. I can’t believe this.
    He looked around. The tower was a ruin, cold wind tearing across it. The stone was cracked and dirt filled the chinks, weeds sprouted everywhere. He didn’t see any way down, no doorway into the structure below.
    The battlement had rounded crenellations, blocking his view. He stumbled awkwardly to his feet; lingering weakness from the poison made him dizzy. Weaving from side to side, he made it to the battlement, aiming for a spot where one of the crenellations had broken and fallen away. Digging sore fingers into the crumbling rock, he dragged himself up enough to see. The tower stood on the edge of a gorge, surrounded by rock-clinging trees and vegetation, mountains rising all around. Then he looked down.
    A long way down. The tower was hundreds of paces high, and though the sides were slanted, they were still far too steep to climb. If Moon had had his claws and wasn’t half dead, he could have done it. Of course, if he had his claws, he would have his wings and this wouldn’t be a problem. He tried to shift again, just in case the poison had miraculously worn off in the last few moments.
    “Don’t fall.”
    Moon’s lips curled into a snarl. He looked back, leaning into the wall to support himself. The shifter stood behind him. His voice a dry croak, Moon said, “You think that’s funny.”
    The shifter just held out a small waterskin made of some bright blue hide. It took Moon a moment to realize the shifter expected him to drink from it. He shook his head. “That’s how I got into this.”
    The shifter lifted gray brows, then shrugged. He tilted the skin back and took a drink. “It’s just water.”
    Piss in your water, Moon started to say, then realized the words weren’t coming out in Altanic or Kedaic, or in any of the other common groundling languages. They were both speaking a language Moon knew in his bones, but hadn’t heard since he was a boy. It was too strange, another shock on top of everything else. He just said, “What do you want?”
    The shifter watched him, his expression opaque. His eyes were blue, but the right one was clouded and its pupil didn’t focus. “Just trying to help,” he said. The even tone of his voice gave nothing away.
    Moon grimaced, unimpressed. “You tried to kill me on the sky-island.”
    “I tried to catch you,” the shifter corrected pointedly. “I just wanted a closer look.” His gaze flicked over Moon, assessing. He’s old, Moon thought, not sure what it was about the man that gave it away. Far older than his groundling form looked. Everything about him was faded to gray, skin, hair, clothes. He wore a loose shirt with the sleeves rolled up, pants of some tougher material, a heavy leather belt with a pouch and knife sheath. The man said, “I’m Stone, of the Indigo Cloud Court.”
    Moon pushed away from the battlement, still weaving on his feet. He had never heard of the place, if it was a place.