Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) Read Online Free PDF Page B

picked up on any rumors circulating around the staff. She considered posting a notice around the fortress about a missing necklace, but quickly dismissed the idea. Any of those desperate, greedy weasels would claim the teardrop as their own if they thought it would trade well for another month’s worth of liquor or vern.
    She clenched the teardrop in her fist, overtaken by a sudden urge to protect it. But the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and her eyelids drooped as she was hit by a wave of exhaustion. Tomorrow. I’ll figure out what to do with it tomorrow.
    As she crossed the passage that overlooked the training yard, the sounds of swords clashing against armor and shields drifted up to her. She tucked the teardrop away and paused on the landing. 
    Could Gabriel be training at this hour? It must be nearly midnight. Her heart began to race as she tiptoed to the balcony’s rail, eager to catch a glimpse of him. Her head was beginning to clear, but her skin still felt flushed and her equilibrium askew. Gritting her teeth against her growing headache, s he gripped the cool iron railing for balance and strained to see the figures sparring below.

CHAPTER 3
    Premonition
     
    ROWAN SNARLED AS HE lunged for his opponent, the tip of his sword aimed for the heart.
    The bulky figure countered him with a swing of a shield, knocking his sword to the side as Rowan stumbled past him. Panting, he lifted a gloved hand to wipe his forehead and brush his bangs from his eyes. Though the rain had cooled the air, it was still unbearably muggy, a typical Asilean summer night.
    “You really need to cut that.”
    The sound of Orris’ harsh bass was muffled inside the helmet, but that did not make it any less menacing. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I could use it against you in battle.”
    Rowan rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard it all before,” he muttered, studying Orris as he squatted into a defensive position. Rowan imagine d the twisted scar curving into a jeer of pointy yellowed teeth as Orris held his shield in front of him and clutched a dagger the size of an infant in his free hand.
    Rowan attacked, slicing his sword to the left. At the last moment, when it looked like Orris would fall for his bluff, Rowan quickly changed directions, aiming for the exposed spot along the ribs.
    The corners of Rowan’s lips curled in a triumphant grin. Got him.    
    Orris’ weight shifted. Before Rowan could blink, Orris lunged to the side of his outstretched arm and nailed him square in the chest with his elbow. 
    Rowan dropped his sword as his breath left him in one huge gush. He stumbled backward, brain scrambl ed from the blow, and bent over to clumsily grope for the sword. A shadow moved from the corner of his eye.
    What the –
    Before he could finish the thought, Orris had stepped behind him, grabbed his arm, pinned it behind his back, and knocked him to his knees with a sharp kick. It happened so fast that Rowan barely had time to register he had lost before Orris grabbed a fistful of his shaggy hair and yanked his head backwards, exposing his throat. Orris laid his dagger alongside his neck. 
    For a few moments, Rowan only sat there catching his breath. What happened? Did he really just lose again?
      His body finally slacked with the acceptance of surrender. Orris released his grip, sheathing his dagger as he did.
    Rowan buckled over and gingerly ru bbed his chest. “Did you really – have to hit me – that hard?” he said between gulps of air.
    Orris only grunted as he removed his helmet and shook out his sopping wet hair. He stalked over to his bag and removed a cotton cloth, turning his back to Rowan as he methodically began polishing his shield. 
    “You haven’t been practicing.” Orris continued to clean his shield, moving his hand in short circular strokes. He did not sound angry. His tone was even and gruff, like he was merely making an observation.
    Rowan swallowed hard and