The Horns of Ruin Read Online Free PDF Page B

Orgentha."
    The long, complicated length of my sword flashed, the power
springing from the floor and coalescing against the blade. I swept it down and
a brickwork of light traveled across the train, cutting the Fratriarch and
Cassandra off from the attackers. The bug-eyed men looked the wall up and down,
its light winking brightly off their lenses. When they looked back in my
direction I had moved. I stood at the rough opening that had been torn in the
car, swinging my sword in the slow circles of a balanced guard.
    "Wall behind you, sword before you," I snarled
and smiled. "Nowhere to go, boys."
    The fallen attacker stood slowly. He moved his arm
sparingly, and the dents around his shoulder leaked blood. He watched me
warily. Odd curls of cold fog wisped out from under his mask.
    "Three to one?" I asked. Their absolute silence
was getting to me. "I am comfortable with those odds, now that I don't
have to worry about the Fratriarch." I slid from balanced guard into a
more aggressive stance. "Let us settle our differences, as warriors
do."
    The air filled with the roaring drone of engines. Behind
the shimmering wall, Cassandra's eyes went wide, even around the shock. The
Fratriarch grimaced, then put a hand on the girl's shoulder and began invoking.
Reluctantly, I glanced behind me.
    A dozen more, their bulbous green eyes bright as they arced
toward the train from the ground on columns of black smoke. These men wore two
barrel-wide burners on their backs, flame flickering around the turbine blades
as they whined forward. Couldn't hold off this many. I looked back at the
Fratriarch.
    "Go!" he yelled. His voice was muffled behind the
wall of light.
    "If I leave you, the invokation will unravel."
    "Girl, I have my own tricks." He planted his
staff and leaves of metal began to tear through the ruined carpet from the car
and swirl around him like a tornado on an autumn day. The leaves slapped
together into a rough, hollow column around the Fratriarch. He drew the girl
close to him. "Morgan on the Fields of Erathis, Eva Forge. Remember."
    The last metal flake fell in place, and I dropped the wall.
Light continued to flash from the column. Other invokations, other wards. The
Fratriarch was Morgan's First Sword, his greatest scion in the world, I
reminded myself. One of the framework towers that held the monotracks up over
the city was nearby, and I jumped to it from the car, leaving the old man to
take care of himself. Third mistake. That was probably the big one.
    I clambered down as the flying goggle-men adjusted their
trajectories to intercept me, jumping the last twenty feet. The arcane strength
of my legs cratered the cobblestone street when I landed.
    Morgan on the Fields of Erathis. A fateful thing for the
Fratriarch to say, I thought as I jogged away from the elevated tracks. There
were small crowds of injured civilians still clambering down from the train and
dispersing into the city. Trying to get away from the fighting. Lots of
screaming, lots of blood, but there were no threats among them. No hidden
assassins. It made me think briefly about the Betrayers. This was nothing like
their usual attacks, their small teams, their knives in the backs of their
enemies. No time for that now. The distant moan of emergency sirens echoed
beneath the urgent roar of the burnpacks of the attackers that were even now
descending to the ground. They landed in the streets, fire and smoke haloing
around them, scattering the already panicked civilians like leaves before a
forest fire. I ducked into an alley.
    In some ways, Erathis was Morgan's greatest battle. The
Rethari horde that had been rolling through the northern provinces spread out
when it came to the unpopulated Erathisian grasslands. Morgan led a cadre of
Paladins on a monthlong campaign against the horde. They traveled on
angelwings, hitting the Rethari in unpredictable places with crippling force
and speed. Morgan led his company against the Rethari weaknesses, and also
against