The Coldstone Conflict Read Online Free PDF

aiming a kick that caught Gape squarely in the chest and sent him crashing to the ground.
    Landing awkwardly, Obegarde managed to duck down and sweep the dwarf’s legs out from under him. Gordo grasped at thin air, but went down, hard.
    Obegarde was already back on his feet; delivering a mighty blow to Gape’s chin which resulted in a sickening thud, he then wrenched the moaning barbarian on to his knees and began to pummel the living daylights out of him.
    Gape quickly put a stop to the attack by driving his cannonball head into Obegarde’s stomach. The vampire doubled up, allowing Gape to produce a sword from his belt and drive the pommel into Obegarde’s face.
    The vampire went down, but managed to roll aside before the barbarian could follow up the strike.
    Gape drew a second sword and advanced on his foe, giving Gordo time to recover from his fall.
    Obegarde watched the approaching barbarian with mounting unease, narrowly evading the first lunge and ducking to avoid the second. Instead of waiting for a third sweep, he threw a punch that, fortunately for him, caught Gape’s upper arm. Seizing the initiative, he leaped in the air and kicked the first sword out of the warrior’s grip, watching it as it flew past him.
    Obegarde grinned, quickly sidestepping as he noticed the dwarf rising to his feet.
    “Looks like we’re even, white-eyes,” he snapped. “Now are you and your soul-sharing friend going to play nicely, or am I going to have to kill you both?” He backed away again, glancing down at the strange engravings on the sword hilt.
    “Hmm … looks like this one’s enchanted,” he muttered, circling the duo. “A pity the true wielder isn’t around to command it, eh?”
    Gape Teethgrit’s white eyes showed no sign of recognition.
    Gods, Obegarde reflected, he really isn’t in there, is he?
    Sensing the vampire’s pause for thought, Gape rushed forward, driving his blade out in front of him in a desperate lunge. Obegarde stepped aside, parrying the drive with comparative ease. A second thought caused him to turn again, just in time to knock aside the dwarf’s first spirited attempt to decapitate him with the battle-axe.
    Obegarde danced through the melee, blocking left, dodging right, until he stood, once again, facing down both the warriors. Until today, he’d never fought with a sword, but supernatural ability to read minds was giving him an edge … especially when the minds in question had thoughts as slow and predictable as this.
    He shook himself from his reverie; Gape and Gordo were moving in for a second round of attacks.
    Obegarde took a few steps back, and walked right into Jimmy Quickstint.
    Across the harbor, Effigy and Vanya were approaching the West Quay.
    “Which one is your father’s?” Effigy demanded, deliberately turning the girl away from the conflict in order to focus her attention on the ten or twelve ships lined against the quay.
    “It’s called the Royal Consort ; father usually has it waiting right at the very end of the quay.”
    Effigy rushed the girl along.
    “Is that it?” he said, gasping at the sheer magnificence of the square-rigger that dominated the last three mooring bays. “Who on Illmoor is your father; a lord of some sort?”
    “No—actually, he’s an earl.”
    “But there’s only one earl in Illm—” Effigy looked sharply at the girl. “You’re Lord Visceral’s daughter?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you go to school here? ”
    “Of course: I am thirteen years old, and Candleford is already thought to be the best preparatory school in Illmoor.”
    “Ha! Not when it’s been reduced to a great pile of ash! Quickly!”
    They hurried up the long-plank that had been stationed to bridge the gap between dock and ship—but the way was quickly barred by a sturdy-looking rogue with gold teeth.
    “Aye up, little miss,” he said, his grin a blinding gleam. “An’ who’s this ’un?”
    “This is Effigy Spatula, Captain. He and his friend have just saved