War of the Magi: Azrael's Wrath (Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

with a rather large and bulky bag over his shoulder. Zerai and Veneka continued into the square, and the djinn abruptly turned to leave in the direction of Iyasu’s room.
    “What was that all about?” Zerai asked as he watched the stranger leave.
    “A private matter,” the angel said. “A personal request, one that I had to refuse.”
    The falconer looked up at the unusual solemnity in the angel’s voice. “Why? What did he want?”
    “As I said, it was a personal matter,” Raziel said, his face still quite devoid of his customary bemusement. “But you should be careful of him on your journey. He doesn’t care much for helping Iyasu. In fact, he has very different things on his mind.”
    “You mean he’s against us?” Veneka asked.
    “No, not at all. But he is not your friend. I’m afraid that poor soul is no one’s friend.” The angel folded his wings, wrapping himself in six waves of shining feathers. “Good luck to you all. I hope you will not need it.”
    Zerai peered up at the worried brow of the angel, and he felt a worm of fear begin to writhe in his belly. And high above them all, a white falcon screamed at the bright blue sky.

Chapter 3

Veneka
    As soon as they left the gates of Naj Kuvari, the mountain city began to melt back into the dense jungle behind them, vanishing into the waves of greenery that blanketed Mount Shokath. Veneka did not look back.
    Over the years she had gone on countless journeys to the nearby villages to tend to the people too remote or too poor to seek out the local physicians and herbalists. Each journey filled her with a new sense of purpose, bringing health and new life to those in pain. But those journeys were only ever brief outings, fleeting excursions from the safety and comfort of Naj Kuvari. She never looked back because she always knew that she would be returning soon.
    This is no different. There and back again. And with any luck, the only people in need of healing will be those I meet along the way, and not those I bring with me.
    Iyasu led the group along the westerly path, slowly descending the mountain slope and bringing them down to the rough road that followed the streambeds where the land was a little flatter. The three djinn followed close on the seer’s heels, as though impatient to be moving far faster but not willing to actually demand that the young cleric hurry any more than he was.
    Veneka watched the backs of the djinn, especially that of the man called Bashir. She tried to guess what sorts of compounds and concoctions a djinn alchemist might carry with him, but her knowledge of such things was nearly non-existent. For her, healing a sickness or a wound was as simple as touching the person and silently asking Raziel to let his grace and that of heaven to pass through her to heal the afflicted.
    All of her studies had focused on calming her mind, listening to the rhythms of the human body, watching green things growing in the soil, and recognizing the signs of suffering, how to find those in need, and how to help them without causing a panic among the superstitious or the fearful. She had no use for herbs or… anything at all.
    Zerai’s boots crunched on the dry dirt behind her and her thoughts turned swiftly to him and their conversation that morning.
    Oh, my love.
    Why so impatient? Is waiting truly so difficult?
    But then, why can I not tell him the truth? He would understand. He would. Unless he would not. After all, he no longer has the nightmares anymore. It was different for him. Maybe too different.
    Perhaps the only way to make him stop asking is to stop sleeping with him.
    She smiled to herself.
    But that will not happen.
    All morning they walked through the forest, making steady time along the narrow dirt track that followed the narrow stream at the bottom of the valley. Iyasu stopped to rest just after midday, after nearly five hours of hiking, yet when the three humans sat down on the grass, the three djinn remained on their feet