Hand and Talon (World of Kyrni Book 1) Read online

  Hand and Talon

  By

  Melonie Purcell

  Hand and Talon

  Copyright © 2017 by Melonie Purcell. All rights reserved

  www.meloniepurcell.com

  Cover design by Radovan Zivkovic

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Please respect the hard work of this author by purchasing a legal copy of this book. Your support of the author’s efforts and rights is appreciated.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to any real person—living or dead—actual locations or events is entirely coincidental.

  For my Cricket—you’re a constant joy and an ever-present reminder of what’s really important.

  Contents

  Map of the Empire

  Chapter 1 – Sorin

  Chapter 2 - Leaving

  Chapter 3 - Truth

  Chapter 4 - Trader

  Chapter 5 - Marked

  Chapter 6 - Story

  Chapter 7 - Visit

  Chapter 8 – Dane

  Chapter 9 - Ryth

  Chapter 10 – Merchant

  Chapter 11 – Oak

  Chapter 12 - Mage

  Chapter 13 – Blessing

  Chapter 14 – Acquisitions

  Chapter 15 - Attack

  Chapter 16 - Nayli

  Chapter 17 – Sheema

  Chapter 18 - Truce

  Chapter 19 - Kyrni

  Chapter 20 – Help

  Chapter 21 – Shaylith

  Chapter 22 - Council

  Chapter 23 - Rumors

  Chapter 24 - Missing

  Chapter 25 – Truth

  Chapter 26 – Change

  Author’s Notes

  A sample from Shield of Drani for you to enjoy

  Map of the Empire

  Chapter 1 – Sorin

  Krea bolted down the narrow alleyway with the money purse clenched in her fist. The rattle of metal told her the soldiers were closing the gap. If something didn’t go right in a hurry, she was in trouble. Not the normal kind of trouble, either. The big kind. The kind she might not survive.

  As she ran, Krea shoved at any of the heavy doors within easy reach. Surely just one would give. Goddess! Just one! But they were barred tight against thieves. Thieves like her.

  Mayhem erupted on the other side of the stone buildings in the wake of her flight, but even the cursing wasn’t loud enough to drown out the shouted orders of the men giving chase.

  She couldn’t outrun them, that much was certain, and the sun was still hours away from setting. Krea pushed back the raging panic. She needed to think. It was time for a new tactic. With a hushed moan, she tossed the bag that would feed her for months into the next corridor she passed, marked the spot in her mind, and darted left down a back alley that led to the central courtyard of the nobles. Getting caught would be bad, but getting caught with the evidence would be a death sentence.

  “Oh goddess, get me out of this one,” Krea whispered, sliding to a stop in front of a crevice in the massive rock wall. Weather, water, and lack of upkeep had left a jagged opening in the aging wall. It was small, but so was she, and it might just be the sort of thing the massive soldiers would overlook. Krea leaped over to the hiding place to avoid leaving tracks and squeezed into the narrow gap. She just had time to brush away her boot prints before the soldiers rounded the corner. If they were paying attention, they would notice that her prints stopped right across from her hideout, but there was no fixing that now.

  As she sat with her knees crushed to her chest, she listened to the clatter of the soldier’s weapons. The first man ran right by. Krea waited. Two more pairs of heavy leather boots trampled past, their wearers huffing like old dogs. It had been a long chase. Still, Krea held her breath. With luck, something she was typically short on, the men had obscured her tracks.

  Something smooth and cool slipped along her ankle, and she squeezed her eyes shut as another man ran past. If the guards don’t get me, the snakes will, she thought, not daring to move. Goddess, there has to be an easier way than this. I’m suddenly feeling open to new ideas, if you would like to share them. I know it seems like I only talk to you when I’m in trouble, but that’s not exactly true. She thought about that for a second. Okay, maybe it is—but that’s because I’m usually in trouble and that’s because nothing ever goes my way, so this is sort of your fault.

  A rope of cold glass slipped along her sweaty neck and over her shoulder, making her shiver as the snake slid to the ground. Or not, she added, wondering at her own stupidity picking a fight with the goddess while trapped in a snake pit. The thought was short lived, though, because the curses of the captain of the guard were echoing down the narrow alleyway.

  “You lost her?” bellowed a man from somewhere at the end of the corridor. “Lose her this time an’ you’ll lose more than your job, ’cause I’ll kill you my own self. It was Lord Blaydin she stole from. Took his travel money for getting his niece to the Royal City. He’ll be bringing humiliation to all of Trasdaak if that girl don’t get to the wedding, and he ain’t laying none of it on me.”

  “What he be walking the streets with money like that anyhow?”

  “That ain’t your worry,” said the captain as his boots stepped closer. “You sure she came this way?”

  Krea thought it was a fair question. Blaydin was a fool, to be sure, but even he should’ve known better than to be on the streets flashing coin like that without at least one guard at his side.

  The scent of stale ale and sweat wafted into the dark crevice as the voices drew nearer. She sucked in her breath and waited.

  “I got me a good look at her, Captain. Even if we don’t find her, I’ll know her dead-on when next I see her.”

  Boots adorned with intricately-woven twists and knots stomped within an arm’s reach of her snake hole. “You idiot!” The captain spat green-tinged saliva from the fandyl herb he chewed. “I've had several good looks at her. That's been a real help now, ain’t it? I don't care what she looks like. All I care is that she gets found. Where did her tracks leave off?”

  A flurry of movement followed the captain’s question. Dust puffed into the crevice, tickling her nose as the boots turned in place. The icy belly of another snake slid along her arm. Krea’s eyes watered as she choked back a cough, but she managed to keep silent. She was in trouble this time, and she knew it. If they caught her, they could put her in prison until a trial date was set, and without a family member to plead her case, she could easily die before that day ever came. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She didn't have sixteen years yet. At least, she didn’t think she did. Either way, she was too young to die in prison, a slave to whatever the guards wanted to do to her. Oh please, Nordu. Help me out of this, she petitioned the goddess again.

  A second pair of boots joined the captain’s. “Uh, Captain, we…” Another puddle of saliva hit the ground, barely missing the other man’s shoe.

  “Let me guess,” said the captain in the silence that followed. “You idiots ran through here like a bunch of stupid, mindless goats and trampled any trace of her tracks.”

  Krea would have enjoyed seeing the looks on their faces were the situation not so dire.

  When the other man didn’t answer, the captain continued. “How am I ever getting out of this pisshole of a village working with morons like you? On the goddess! It's a temple miracle you morons manage to breathe without screwing it up! Spread out. Go in pairs and search every
alleyway and crevice. If you come back before nightfall without that little maggot, it had better be to pack your bags. Rolusk, you’re with me.”

  Dust marked the guards’ departure. Krea tried to count the footfalls, but she lost track and could only wait to listen for any stragglers. The tiny crevice was barely large enough to hold her, even without the snakes. Her legs ached, and more than one sharp rock was trying to bury itself in her back. Sweat streamed down her face, stinging her eyes, and it seemed as if every breath screamed out her location. Her imagination filled in for what her eyes couldn’t see in the darkness as visions of bugs and rats filled her mind, but she held still and waited. After what felt like an eternity, Krea grabbed what she hoped was a rock and poked as little of her head out as she could. Nothing. She looked for dust, listened for breathing, strained every sense for any sign of the men, but the alleyway remained silent.

  With her heart still drumming in her ears, Krea crawled out of the crevice, clenching her rock in her fist. She would skirt back around to the main courtyard and slip outside the city walls. If all went well, she could come back tonight to collect the moneybag she had to toss, assuming it was still there.

  The sun sulked low in the sky. The massive walls cast a long shadow across the narrow strip. Krea glanced down at her dusty wool breeches and torn shirt. She half-expected to see spiders making their homes in the folds of her tunic, but given the circumstances, she was in decent shape. Goddess knows she’d looked worse.

  Sticking to the shadows, Krea headed back the way she had come in near silence, but she hadn’t gone more than three steps when a rumbling laughter echoed between the walls.

  “Skag! Stop where you are,” demanded the captain, stepping out from behind a nook in the wall. His sour expression twisted his face into a permanent sneer as he glared down at her. Krea swallowed hard and tried not to show her terror. It wasn't enough that he was a huge man by any standard; he was also someone clearly used to having others hurry to do his bidding. Even the dust and mud from the chase seemed an affront to his smooth skin.

  This day just keeps getting better, she thought, scrambling for a plan.

  He wore a belt knife that dangled obscenely across his front, tucked into a richly-embroidered leather sheath. Even if that were his only weapon, she would still be no match for him, but he also wore a broadsword off one hip and a dagger tucked in behind a coil of rope on the other. Somehow, she knew just by looking that the rope was spelled. She didn't have time to ponder how a man in his position came by such an expensive weapon, because he was moving. He took two deliberately slow steps forward and spit. “I knew if I waited you would be stupid enough to give yourself away.”

  Krea spun around to flee, but her hope of escape died when another soldier stepped around the corner, blocking her other exit. This man's uniform was plain compared to the captain's, and he held only a short sword in his hand, but he was enough of a deterrent to stop her cold.

  She glanced from one to the other, trying to decide which guard would offer her the best target since she would have to try fighting her way out, but both men were formidable. Without a miracle, she didn’t stand a chance. It was time to start using the only weapon she was skilled at wielding. It was time to lie.

  “Why are you chasing me? What do you want? My mother is expecting me home already, and when she finds out that I’ve been hiding from you and your men all this time, she will go right to the Lady Regent.” Krea brushed the dirt off her clothing with an air of haughtiness that matched her tone, if not her appearance.

  The captain only sneered. “Is that so? As if a skag like you had a mother. I don’t think the Lady Regent would say much either when I show her the size of the purse you stole, less my cut for having to chase you down. Where is it?”

  Krea glared with as much venom as she could muster, and then finally shrugged. “I don’t know what purse you’re talking about.”

  “Rolusk, go get that bag.”

  The second guard started toward her and Krea saw her opening. With an aim worthy of any grown man, she pitched her stone through the air, cracking the stocky man in the head. He slapped his hand to his temple and leaned forward, blood already running between his fingers. Krea ran. She was nearly past the stunned guard when her flight came to a sudden, bone-jarring stop.

  The air rushed out of Krea’s lungs as she jerked backward, landing on her back with a hard thud. Still dazed and sucking wind, she grabbed frantically at the rope that encircled her arms and chest, but it refused to yield.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” berated the guard, yanking her back to the ground just as Krea found her feet. “This is a spelled rope, skag. Not even sludge like you can get free of this one. Now give me the bag.”

  Krea’s heart drummed in her ears. She had been in bad spots before, but never one this bad, not since escaping the trader. She tried to keep calm, but her effort was in vain. Panic pulsed through her body like blood. She had to control it. She couldn’t lose control. Bad things happened when she panicked.

  “I told you already, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said through clenched teeth. “Let me go. I demand an audience with the Lady.”

  “You demand?” The captain walked toward her, coiling the extra rope as he went. “I don’t accept demands from filthy scabs.” Krea tried to get to her feet again, using the rope for leverage, but he just jerked his arm and sent her back to the ground. “Stay there. It’s where you belong, wallowing in the dirt like an animal.” With a flip of his wrist, the guard coiled the rope she held in her fists back around her wrists. She tried to free her hands, but the spell held them tight.

  She could hardly breathe as the man reached down to search for the missing moneybag. When his search yielded no purse, he sneered as if he had just touched something vile.

  “What did you do with it? Tell me now, and I won’t break your arm.”

  Krea sucked in a shaky breath. Her control was slipping. The rage building inside made it hard to think, to breathe. When she spoke, her voice trembled from the strain of suppressed fury. “I have no bag. I have no money. I have nothing. You will have to go rob someone else.”

  A sharp kick in the ribs left her gasping for air. Krea curled up in pain and tried to block the second assault, but another boot caught her in the back. The stocky guard was back, and he wasn’t the least bit impressed with her impeccable aim. Before the third kick could land, Krea flipped onto her back and planted both feet square on her attacker’s knees. He hit the ground with a grunt, but before either of them could get their bearings, the captain’s booming voice broke the impasse. He pulled the rope tight and pressed the side of her face into the dirt with his boot. A wad of saliva hit the ground so close to her nose that tiny clots of mud splattered her cheek.

  “That’s enough,” he yelled, putting just enough weight on his right foot to keep her still. “She probably left it in that pisshole she was hiding in. Rolusk, go get it.”

  “I don’t know, Captain,” said the guard. “That looks like a snake pit to me. I don’t want to get bit by no chey.”

  The captain let out a slow hiss and turned, his boot twisting her face into the dirt that much more as he moved. “You stupid… If there were chey in that wall, do you really think this skag would have stayed in there as long as she did? Mother of the goddess, how did I get picked for this assignment? Now move!”

  Rolusk’s boots passed in front of her and disappeared.

  They didn’t have the bag she tossed and that was good, but her fragile hold on the burning rage within was slipping fast. She had to rein it in. No matter what, she knew she couldn’t let herself get out of control. If she did, there was no telling what would happen. It would be like last time, and she couldn’t imagine living through that horror again.

  Krea tried to slow her breathing, but the dirt in her nose and mouth forced her to take shallow, panting breaths. The marks of the man’s kicks still pulsed with pain. She was scrambling for a solution when Rolusk’s sc
ream cut the silence.

  “Captain, Captain!” he yelled. “I’m bit. Nordu save me. I’m bit. I’m a dead man. I’m dead.”

  The captain never moved. “You don’t know it was a chey. Calm down. Running around screaming won’t help.”

  “I’m dead.”

  “You don’t sound dead,” said the captain, but Krea could hear the truth in his tone. A chey bite was fatal.

  “I’m good as dead. I’m…” The guard never finished his sentence. The powerful poison was already taking its toll. Krea heard him thump on the ground, already unable to control his muscles.

  “Listen, maggot, you already cost me half a day and now a good man. Tell me where you hid the purse, or I’ll drag you out of here and sell you to the first trade clan that comes along. Even a skag like you will fetch a good price to that lot.”

  A flood of horrific memories shattered Krea’s thin tendrils of self-control. Like a searing heat, rage consumed her. She felt helpless in its path. From a place deep inside that she didn’t understand, something foreign and violent burst forth.

  Krea opened her mouth to scream, but a beastly shriek replaced her human voice. As if lifted by an invisible force, the captain flew back against the wall. Without knowing how she got there, Krea was on her feet.

  No! she thought. No! Not again. But she could do nothing to stop the destructive force that ripped through her body. The world before her blurred and rippled. In a moment of clarity, she saw the spelled rope lying in a heap on the ground, but she couldn’t understand how it got there.

  The captain’s stunned face drifted through her line of sight, then disappeared again. He suddenly seemed so small. Then other faces joined his. They were backing away and throwing their hands up in signs of protection, but then they blurred again.

  I have to stop it, Krea pleaded with herself. Goddess help me. I must stop! She tried to cry out, but where her voice should have been, another shriek pierced the air. The burning rage inside suddenly became a need to be free, a desire so strong it consumed her. She wanted to shed her body like she might shed a coat on a summer day.