The Well of Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page A

dralda and twisted on the ground, shoving the dog against Obilin’s legs. I swung my clenched hands hard at the side of my dralda’s head. It flinched away; before it could regain its balance, I was out from under it, on my feet, the weight of the steel sword welcome in my bloody hands. Desperation had restored some of the strength leeched out by the desert. Tarani was up, too, the sword she had dropped held out in front of her.
    Obilin backed cautiously, keeping us both in sight. His eyes narrowed when he saw my sword, and he smiled his slick, offensive smile.
    “Well, well,” he said. “What’s this, another disguise? The humble, if troublesome, mercenary Lakad turns into a rich prize!” He made a mock bow, keeping his eyes up. “This is indeed an honor, Rikardon. And I sympathize with your feelings for the lady. Unfortunately, that does make you a rival, doesn’t it?” He pointed his free arm at me. “Tass. Mara. Attack!”
    The dralda, who had kept their distance from the swords, bunched their muscles and aimed themselves at me. I braced myself to meet their charge, but suddenly they backed away, whining and whipping their heads from side to side as if in pain.
    “They will not obey you, Obilin,” Tarani said, drawing his attention toward her. “Your name meant nothing to me, and I did not recognize you dressed to serve a different master,” she said, referring, I supposed, to the green uniform of the High Guard. “But when you spoke of Molik—I remember you now, salt-scum. You are the source of the Living Death. You stole slaves and sold them all over again to Molik, to die in his service.”
    Obilin was retreating from the girl’s tall, crouching form. Tarani’s fury was palpable, fascinating. She may have been using her mindpower to keep Obilin’s attention fixed on her—because he was backing straight toward me. I lifted my sword and brought it down hilt-first with all my strength.
    But Obilin had his own kind of power, drawn from years of fighting. Suspicion surfaced, and at the last possible moment, he twisted around. The hilt of my sword only grazed his shoulder. Instead of attacking me, he dropped his sword, threw himself into a backward somersault, and came up on his hands. He bucked a double kick into Tarani’s chest.
    The girl went down like a stone, the wind knocked out of her. Obilin leaped over to her, swung a backhand blow, and she was out cold.
    I was on my way to help her when both dralda hurled themselves at me. I braced myself against their weight and slashed out with my sword. One fell back with a useless front leg, but the other had its teeth in my arm and was dragging me around in a circle as it dodged my sword.
    The pain in my arm was nothing compared to the pain in my mind.
Damn it, this is all my fault
, I accused myself again.
If I hadn
‘
t been so damned sorry for myself when Keeshah left, if I
‘
d paid attention to my responsibility to Tarani and the Ra
‘
ira … unnhh …
    Something hard hit the base of my skull, and everything went black.
    Misery, anguish, remorse
—none of those words can describe the way I felt when I woke up with pain shooting up my arm, an ache throbbing in my head, and guilt hovering in my mind like a thundercloud. I reached out to Keeshah for comfort …
    Add loneliness.
    I opened my eyes to see Obilin standing nearby, examining Rika, turning it so the sharp, steel blade winked brightness at me …
    Add hatred.
    Tarani’s face came into view. Even with her dark headfur gray with sand and her cheek swelling from Obilin’s blow, she was beautiful.
    “I’m sorry,” I said.
    Obilin turned at the sound of my voice. “Awake? Good.” He put Rika through his own baldric and came toward us, tossing and catching the leather pouch. “Perhaps one of you would like to tell me what’s in this little package?”
    “Look for yourself,” I said wearily.
    “I’m afraid that’s impossible,” he replied. He stopped beside me, facing Tarani. “You