The Last War (Book #9 of the Sage Saga) Read Online Free PDF

breaking his concentration. “It’s a house.”
    “It is,” James said as they approached it. It was a small, makeshift thing. Someone had chopped down a few of Paragon’s trees and stacked them on top of each other for walls, but based on the way they were positioned, it was apparent that the architect was an amateur. The roof was flat, and only about seven feet from the floor, not to mention that it was an assembly of flat logs positioned next to each other. If it rained, there was no slope to run it off. The trees were as grey and dead as every other they had seen, and there were no windows.
    James saw that there was no door in the front, making it look like a tent at the entrance. There were a couple chairs and several beds inside, and though it was a tight space with all of the furniture, he realized that the house itself had plenty of breathing room without it. If it was inhabited, they could easily remove the clutter.
    Catherine walked into the house and bounced lightly on the wooden floor. It didn’t move, nor did it creak. It was just a little wet from the rain. She ran a finger across one of the chairs. The wood still held its shine.
    “This place isn’t bad.” James said.
    Catherine scoffed. “Thinking of moving in?”
    “If no one lives here.”
    “Someone does,” she said, pointing to the beds. “A lot, it appears.”
    “They might have moved on. You saw all those people in the fields.”
    “True,” she said, walking over to one of the few tables—no bigger than a square foot in size—and examining the wax that had once been brightly glowing candles.
    “What do you think?” James asked as she walked around a little more.
    “We can give it a shot,” she said. She was about to flash him a smile when she heard a thud from behind the house. She and James ran out and around to the back quickly, ready for action. But instead of an enemy, they found children. Four of them—all wearing tattered and soaking wet clothes that had once been from the finest cloths that Paragon had to offer.
    James’ face softened. “Hey there,” he said, bending down onto one knee. The kids—all of different ages and sizes—scanned his face reluctantly.
    “I’m Benny,” the littlest one said, biting his lip while he stared into James’ eyes with his bright blue ones. The eldest—probably thirteen—slapped his hand on Benny’s right shoulder and pulled him back into the huddle they had formed.
    “Don’t talk to them,” the eldest said as James stood up tall.
    “Why, Rupert? They’re nice.”
    “You don’t know that,” Rupert replied, examining James’ belt.
    James realized what he was looking for. “I don’t have any weapons on me,” he said. “And I wouldn’t hurt you even if I did. We were just looking for a place to stay. Is this your house?”
    “IT IS!” shouted a little girl, her face covered by her long, wet black hair. “You can’t have it!”
    “We wouldn’t take it without permission,” James said.
    Catherine glared at him and then turned to the children. “Do you all live here? Where are your parents or guardians?”
    “DEAD!” the black-haired girl screamed. Benny started to cry and Rupert scowled at her.
    “What happened?” Catherine asked solemnly.
    “There was a battle in the fields,” the other girl said. She had listless brown eyes and a hardened, angular face under her short, black hair. “We didn’t hear from them for days, and the cities were being evacuated because Cimmerian was coming. We found this place, and—”
    “Don’t tell them that!” Rupert said. “They might take it if they know it’s not ours.”
    “We’re not taking anything,” James said. “I just want to know what happened.”
    “We look for them,” the girl continued. “But we don’t find anything. I don’t know where they are.”
    “We could help you look,” Catherine said.
    “Really?” the girl perked up, but Rupert cleared his throat.
    “How would you help?” he