Of Blood And Fire Ryan Cahill (nice books to read .txt) 📖

before he eventually forced himself to open his eyes. Reluctantly, he pulled himself back into his own thoughts. He still felt Valerys, as he always did, but the overwhelming intensity was gone.

He almost jumped when he saw that Dann and Erik were beside him. He hadn’t heard them approach, they must have heard Valerys’s roar.

“Incredible…” Erik’s hand rested against the parapet and his eyes were fixed on the swooping figure of the glistening white dragon above.

Dann stood beside him, wordless.

Calen watched as Valerys twisted and turned in the sky. It was a thing of beauty the likes of which Calen never imagined he would see. A dragon soaring through the skies above the city of Belduar. He felt as though he were right in the middle of one of Therin’s stories.

A feeling of tired satisfaction scratched at the back of Calen’s mind as Valerys looped back towards the Inner Circle.

“He’s coming back.” Calen’s sudden announcement startled both Dann and Erik, who hadn’t noticed him open his eyes.

Without waiting for a response, Calen made his way down the stone staircase to the courtyard of the Inner Circle.

A shadow spread over the ground in front of Calen as Valerys swooped down into the courtyard, his powerful wingbeats whipping spirals of dust into the air as he alighted on the cool stone ground. The dragon craned his neck from side to side and walked over to Calen, spreading his wings wide in what felt like a celebration.

“Show-off,” Calen said. A warm smile spread across his face as he reached out and rested his hand on Valerys’s snout. A sense of pride emanated from the dragon.

“That was amazing,” Dann said, breaking his silence. “I never thought…”

“Never thought I’d see the day when you were speechless,” Erik laughed, nudging Dann in the ribs as he stepped up beside him. “But I agree. That was something else.”

The heavy sounds of Ihvon’s footsteps echoed across the empty courtyard. At least, the courtyard could be considered empty if not for Calen, Erik, Valerys, and the guards who stood, staring in awe at Valerys, their purple cloaks billowing in the wind.

“Calen, Erik, Dann. It is time. Oleg has returned. The king requests your presence in the drawing room.”

By the time they entered the drawing room, it was already tight for space. It was not Therin, Aeson, Oleg, Dahlen, or Arthur who sucked the space from the room. It was the hulking form of Asius, who most likely dared not sit on any of the furniture for fear of breaking it. Instead, he leaned lackadaisically against the wall at the back of the room. Were he to stand at full height, he would have to take care not to crack his head off the low-hanging chandelier that hung in the middle of the room.

Considering the sheer vastness of everything else in the city, it surprised Calen that the king’s drawing room was so quaint. The small space was decorated simply. The room itself was centred around a low, solid wooden table that was framed on all four sides with plush couches of red velvet. The eastern wall was occupied entirely by an impressive bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling. Rist would love this.

It was Asius who spoke first. He shifted his weight off the wall and closed the distance between himself and Calen in four long strides.

“Calen Bryer, son of Vars Bryer.” The giant’s enormous hand wrapped around Calen’s arm with unsettling ease. “It pleases me to see you again and to hear that you are now bonded. It would warm my heart if I could meet the one who shares your life – as soon as we are done here, of course.”

“Asius, son of Thalm,” Calen responded. He bowed his head, which was reciprocated by Asius. “To warm your heart would be my honour.”

Calen’s response earned him a wide grin from the giant. The giants, or the Jotnar, were a race layered in formality and cultural complexity. It had taken Calen an irritating amount of time to memorise their multitudes of greetings and customs, along with their various responses.

Without looking, Calen could tell that Therin was grinning from ear to ear. The elf had insisted that Calen not sleep until he could repeat every one back to him without hesitation. He could almost feel the “I told you so” from across the room.

“Where are Senas and Larion? Did they not travel with you?” Calen asked.

“They had other journeys to travel, but our paths will join again soon.”

Erik, Dann, and Ihvon briefly exchanged greetings with Asius, then the giant returned to his position, leaning against the far wall, and the four men took their seats on the couches.

“Asius, I assure you, we can have this meeting in a room that is more considerate to your needs. I simply had not anticipated you arriving with Oleg.”

By the tone in Arthur’s voice, Calen had a feeling that this was not the first time that this topic had been broached. The giant simply waved him away.

With a light shrug, Arthur turned his attention back towards the rest of the group. “Oleg, please,” he said, opening his arms.

Oleg cleared his throat. “The Freehold have convened, and all four kingdoms have agreed that a meeting should take place in the Heart Chamber of Durakdur. They wish us to leave for the Wind Tunnels as soon as is possible.”

“Fantastic,” Arthur said, clapping his hands together. “We shall leave for the tunnels before the day is through.”

Calen saw a look of distaste on Ihvon’s face. “Typical dwarves. Take two weeks to make a decision and then expect us to snap to attention at their call.” Ihvon’s tone disappeared with a sharp look from Arthur.

“If I may, my king. There is more.” Oleg shifted in his seat.

“Please,” Arthur said, rolling his hands over each other.

“The invite for the meeting extends only to the Draleid, Aeson Virandr, and Asius.” Oleg had to crane his neck upwards to look at the giant. “And yourself,