Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) Read Online Free PDF Page A

nightmare. Unwilling to leave his friend alone, the barbarian brings Nyx to the front of the cave where he sits with her curled in his lap like a sick child. Whatever dream was plaguing the channeler has disappeared and she chuckles at the feel of Timoran’s comforting hand on her head.
    “I do feel like I dishonored my parents, my tribe, and myself with my actions. Yet there was nothing I could do given the circumstances,” he explains, facing the curious telepath. Timoran’s eyes sparkle in the firelight, tears of anguish trickling out of their corners. “I cannot tell you what happened including why I must remain silent. Everything will be revealed when we arrive in Stonehelm, but I do not feel it is right to speak about my past right now. It is not that I do not trust all of you, but I am merely confused and scared of the future. This is a rather new sensation for me and it revolves around a worry that all of you will walk away when you discover what type of man I really am.”
    “You’re a foolish and honorable man, Sir Wrath,” Dariana replies while putting two of her fingers to his forehead. She playfully taps on his mind with her powers, but never pushes far enough to read his thoughts. “I’ve been in there even though I don’t remember what I saw. All I know is that the Timoran we have known all this time is the real one. If anything, you are a better man than we realize. To me, you epitomize the loyalty, honor, and wisdom that every champion should aspire too. Never think that you’re anything less than that. Otherwise, I’ll have Nyx give you a talking to and then we’ll hand you over to Sari.”
    “Big dummy,” Nyx mutters in her sleep. She raises her fist to gently bop Timoran on the chin. “Stop being a big dummy and share the food. I’m hungry too. Don’t make me turn you into a . . . thing.”
    “I think she is slightly awake,” Timoran whispers as he prepares to place Nyx on the ground next to him. The half-elf grips his wrist and a spell locks her in place, the magic causing his mouth to go dry from fear. “Again, thank all of you for being by my side. I promise to clear my thoughts of doubt and stay true to myself. It appears that this journey is taking a toll on my nerves and mind. Perhaps things will not be as bad as I believe.”
    “That’s the spirit,” Dariana replies with a grin. A curious look comes over her face and she rubs her temples with her thumbs. “Why do people say that phrase? That sounds like something one would say to point out a ghost. Maybe they mean spirits as in alcohol, which means I just suggested you get drunk. Could it be a reference to the aura or soul? There are far too many words that share the same meaning in this world. Not to mention those that have multiple meanings. It’s so hard learning these newer phrases. Many of them aren’t even new, but I never heard them until now.”
    The barbarian gives the woman a small punch to her arm, the force enough to knock her off-balance. “You have a better handle on things than you believe. Just do what comes natural and we will help you along. From the look of the storm, we might be here for a while, so we will have plenty of time to work on the nuances of modern language.”
    “You know we can’t stay here forever.”
    “I know, but I hope to wait out the worst of the storm.”
    “At least it’s only rain.”
    Timoran sniffs at the air and groans in dismay. “Give it a few seconds. What you are about to see is one of the scariest natural threats that this area holds.”
    The rain slows down to a trickle and the only sound is the growing howl of a gale that billows over the eastern mountains. A flood of sweltering warmth enters the cave as the arctic wind drives the summer heat toward the west. Across the region, animals hurry to find cover or gather in large groups to survive the incoming storm. Dariana can hear the creatures’ panic, but there is a sense of acceptance that this is natural and