The Killing Song: The Dragon Below Book III Read Online Free PDF Page A

pointed along the street and up.
    Perched on a gushing rainspout at a point where the street turned was the huddled shape of a very wet black heron. One of Dah’mir’s herons. If Ashi hadn’t drawn his attention to the banners and he hadn’t been looking up, Singe wouldn’t have seen it himself. Dandra drew a sharp breath, and Singe felt the pressure of her mind against his as she reached out in the mental link of
kesh
. He accepted the touch, and an awareness of her—and of Ashi and Natrac as well—blossomed in his thoughts.
    Is it watching for us?
Natrac asked.
    Does it matter?
    I think it does
, said Dandra.
Beyond that bend in the street is Fan Adar, the kalashtar neighborhood. I think the heron is watching the kalashtar
.
    Singe cursed silently and thought for a moment, then asked.
Does anyone see any others?
    The others scanned walls and rooftops. One by one, they shook their heads.
Good
, said Singe. He raised his hand, a spell forming on his lips. Dandra looked at him with alarm.
    Singe, a spell will attract attention!
    Not this one
. Singe focused his will, crooked his fingers, and murmured a soft word of magic.
    Fire magic might have been his strength, but they’d just spent weeks on a wooden ship. If the crew of the
White Bull
had turned on them, throwing flames around wouldn’t have been a good idea, so Singe had made certain he was ready to cast a different kind of spell if the need arose. Up on the rainspout, the heron seemed to shiver slightly, then to sag. Singe lowered his hand and stepped away from the wall. The heron didn’t move, not even when he walked right up and stood underneath it. He turned back and gestured for the others to join him. “It’sasleep,” he said. “It should stay that way for a while and wake up without even knowing we were here.”
    Dandra released her hold on the
kesh
, and the mental link vanished. “Why don’t you use that spell more often?”
    He spread his hands. “Not everything falls asleep so easily, but pretty much everything will burn.”
    Dandra shook her head and led them around the corner.
    It was almost as if they had entered another city. The crowds that had packed the other streets were gone, leaving only a few figures huddled here and there. Singe had a feeling that even if it hadn’t been raining, the streets in this neighborhood would have been quiet and nearly empty. The Thronehold banners, though still present, were subdued. The gray stone of Overlook remained, but the decorations that enlivened it elsewhere were different here: bright flowers in painted window boxes gave way to gray-green herbs in suspended trays, curtains in windows bore curious embroidery that Singe had only seen in Dandra’s clothing, doors carried strange signs and symbols.
    “Welcome to Fan Adar,” said Dandra softly.

    The few faces that regarded them from arches and stalls shared features distinct from the men and women of the Five Nations. Some had the distinct exotic beauty—long and thin with angular features—that marked a kalashtar. Others had the rounder, softer features of humans, though they and the kalashtar were alike enough that they might have been distant cousins.
    In a way, Singe supposed, they were. The humans were Adarans; Dandra had said that the far-off nation of Adar had been the birthplace of kalashtar eighteen hundred years before and that kalashtar and Adarans still lived close together. All had dark hair and eyes, with bronzed skin tones that ranged from the same rich brown as Dandra’s to a pale duskiness. Most wore clothes and sandals similar to hers as well.
    Dandra kept to the middle of the street, not returning the dark-eyed gazes. Singe thought he saw recognition in some of the faces they passed, but no one called out and as soon as a kalashtar or Adaran turned to him, Natrac, or Ashi, even themerest hint of curiosity vanished into blank solemnity.
    “Real welcoming sorts, aren’t they?” said Natrac under his breath.
    Dandra turned