The Hungering Flame Read Online Free PDF

gave Ghausse a friendly pat as he dismounted, and the wolf surprised him by nuzzling him with his big snout. “ Good night, boy, ” Garrett said.
    He and Warren shouldered their gear and stepped through the ovoid doorway into the central roundhouse . Though similar in design to Annalien’s house back in Wythr, it was not so brightly lit as the ghost’s home. A few witchfire lamps dimly illuminated what could best be described as a nest.
    Various tents stood, half-raised, against the outer walls. Some of them bore the sigils of necromancers that Garrett knew. The golden worm symbol of Mauravant , the goddess of death, marked the stained green silk of several more. Little walls of supplies between them formed makeshift buttresses for the tents as no pegs could be driven into the alabaster floor.
    “ This one looks empty, ” Warren said, gesturing toward one of the green tents. A stack of bedrolls lay in one corner, and, to Garrett’s eyes, looked most inviting.
    “ Which side do you want? ” Warren asked.
    Garrett simply threw himself on the pile and fell immediately to sleep.

Chapter Four
    Garrett awoke to the smell of roasting bacon. He still lay in the tumbled pile of bedrolls, though someone had covered him with a wool blanket while he slept . He stretched and yawned, feeling completely refreshed. He had never had a better night’s sleep.
    He had no idea what time it might be, for the dim green glow beyond the tent’s flap seemed the same as the night before. He only knew that neither his stomach nor his bladder would permit him to remain in bed a moment longer.
    Garrett emerged from the tent to see Jitlowe, the gaunt Zhadeen necromancer with the colorless glass eye. The man looked up from lacing his high, ornate boots and smiled at Garrett’s pained expression.
    “ I’ll show you the way, ” he said, rising to his feet and motioning for Garrett to follow him.
    “ How are you today, Master Jitlowe? ” Garrett asked, following the older necromancer out of the roundhouse, “ It is day, isn’t it? ”
    Jitlowe laughed. “ Yes, ” he said, “ well into it, I’d imagine. I never saw the advantage in rising early. I would rather meet the day’s difficulties as well-rested as possible. ”
    Garrett smiled. “ You sound like Max. ”
    Jitlowe scoffed. “ Zara’thul , you mean. He’s turned into the worst of the early-risers these days. ”
    “ Zara’thul ? ” Garrett asked.
    “ Yes, ” Jitlowe said, “ fancies himself a death lord now. Added the old Gloarish title to the end of his name.
    “ What does thul mean? ” Garrett asked.
    Jitlowe gave him a thin smile. “ It means chosen one , or perhaps just man with the biggest stick ... who knows ? The Gloarans only clawed their way out of barbarism a few centuries ago. ”
    “ Oh, ” Garrett said.
    “ Mind you don’t get caught up in all this madness , ” Jitlowe said, “ In any case, the baths are through there. ” He indicated an archway in the outer wall of the temple dome.
    “ Thank you, ” Garrett said, and hurried through, leaving the glass-eyed necromancer behind.
    Beyond the archway , Garrett found a series of small chambers hollowed out of natural rock. A hot spring bubbled up here, and lambent pools of steaming blue water filled several of the chambers. He wondered at the source of their unnatural glow, but wasted little time in investigation. He found a room containing a cavernous shaft that, judging by the piles of fresh leaves, served as the camp’s privy and put it to use.
    Afterward, he washed up as best he could manage at one of the steaming pools, discovering a kind of glowing algae that coated the submerged rocks. He scraped a bit off onto his fingertip and laughed at novelty of the sight.
    “ They’re beautiful, aren’t they? ” a voice called out from behind.
    Garrett turned to see the priestess Serepheni standing in the doorway. She wore a pale lavender silk robe and carried a soft white towel, draped over her