"Maggie Furey - Shadowleague 2 - Spirit of the Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Furey Maggie)

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SPIRIT of the STONE



CHAPTER 1

Nightfall



Dawn was still a long way off when Seriema and her companions escaped
from Tiarond. The horses galloped through the waterlogged fields of the
townlands, threading their way between the ghastly pyres, the biggest of
which still smoldered with a dull red glow, the others extinguished by rain
and snow. As she raced away from the beleaguered city, it took all SeriemaтАЩs
self-control to keep from looking back over her shoulder. She was certain
that the horror she had left behind must be following.
It was raining: a cold, thin rain that chilled exposed flesh and penetrated
clothing like steel needles, but being wet was the least of SeriemaтАЩs
problems. On this dreadful day, the bastions of power, wealth, and privilege
she had built around herself had come crashing down, and she had turned
from the richest woman in Tiarond into a homeless vagabond, her future
uncertain and her survival hanging by a thread.
Only pride sustained her. She was angry, hurting, and afraid; she wanted to
weep, to curse, to shriek like a harridanтАФbut no matter what setbacks the
world might hurl at her, she was determined to face them with courage and


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SPIRIT OF THE STONE - SHADOWLEAGUE 2 - MAGGIE FUREY

determination. Seriema would rather walk barefoot over broken glass than
give way to weakness and fear before her new companions, but it was hard
to keep up her mask.
Disconnected images from the last few hours kept flashing through her
mind. Pain and terror. The taste of blood and the stink of her own fear. The
face of the man who had attacked her, contorted with rage and hatred. The
hideous winged creature that had hurtled through the shattered window,
moving preternaturally fast, its fanged maw agape and dripping gore.
Marutha, the old housekeeper who had played such a significantтАФand
vocalтАФpart in her upbringing, lying dead on the kitchen floor, her grey hair
clotted with blood, brain, and bits of bone. Seriema stifled a sob. She had
sent the old woman away in the midst of a quarrel, and the last words
Marutha had heard from her beloved mistress had been harsh, and spoken in