Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) Kathryn Kingsley (best e books to read .txt) 📖

Maverick narrowed his eyes up at the paler man. “What do you know, Priest?”

Lyon’s face betrayed nothing. “I do not know what you mean.”

The “Elder of Words”—whatever that means—rolled his visible, gold-irised eye. “Very well. Be obstinate.” He turned on his heel and strolled away into the Great Hall.

Only once the man in the gray suit had turned and left did the one in white crack a playful smirk.

Ember furrowed her brow. Strange.

Maverick snapped his fingers, calling to them from a good twenty feet away. “Come, my king. And bring the new one. Queen Ini will want to meet our unexpected guest.”

Lyon struck his arm out in front of him, as if inviting her to walk ahead of him. She wasn’t quite sure whether he was attempting to be noble, or if he was making sure she didn’t run away once he turned his back on her.

He wouldn’t have been wrong.

With a long sigh, she followed Maverick. “I dislike you,” she muttered under her breath at the pale blood-drinker behind her.

“No, I don’t believe that’s true,” Lyon replied, mirth thick in his voice. “But think what you like.”

She did her best not to stab him. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or annoyed that she managed to resist the urge. She hesitated, nearly tripping as they left the foyer into a space that was somehow impossibly even more detailed and decadent than the foyer.

The ceiling was painted—every inch elaborately covered in murals of creatures, terrifying monsters and beautiful ones in equal measure. She couldn’t begin to see it all. Lyon gently touched her shoulder, snapping her focus back down.

It was then that Ember noticed Maverick was standing in front of what appeared to be a giant pile of…rubble. Bent metal twisted at odd angles and broken glass decorated the floor, glittering like colored snow.

“By the Ancients…” Lyon froze in his tracks. She glanced up at him and saw fear on his face for the first time since they had met. “The Orrery—”

“Gone!” a woman wailed from somewhere.

Ember screamed as someone appeared right in front of her. One second, there was nobody. Then, all at once, there was a floating woman six inches in front of her face. She staggered back, fell flat on her ass with a pained grunt, and pulled her long knife out all in one movement.

The floating woman hovering over her had long, dark blue hair, the color of the ocean in the summer. It flowed around her just like it was caught in the water itself. Her skin was a pale blue, accented by the strange writing she had seen on Maverick, only in matching dark blue ink and traveling down her arms and legs in delicate spirals.

The woman was barefoot and nearly naked. A sheer dress draped from her frame, caught in the same flowing invisible water as her hair. Her face was obscured by a full mask. Gold and blue carved leaves decorated the surface in elegant, elaborate detail. Ember could see the sparkle of gemstones set into the surface.

The floating woman gasped, her hand covering the painted mouth of her mask. “Oh, you poor thing!”

“I’m all right—I’ve taken much harder hits than that.” She shoved her knife back in her belt. She figured it probably wasn’t much good against a woman who could float and appear out of thin air.

Climbing to her feet, she didn’t bother to brush herself off. She probably added more dirt to the floor by falling on it. It wasn’t until she was standing that she realized Lyon had been offering her a hand up. “Oh. Sorry. Used to being alone…”

He chuckled and lowered his hand. “Quite all r—”

She never heard the rest of his sentence. The floating blue woman was suddenly touching her. Her pale blue arms were locked around her shoulders. Ember squeaked and froze. Was this the moment she died? Was she about to be mauled?

It took several seconds of her heart pounding in her ears before she realized that the woman was hugging her. And she was talking at a mile a minute.

“You poor thing! I’m not talking about startling you. Oh, you’ve been so tired…so alone. What a weary world you’ve come from.” The floating woman pulled back an inch and placed her hand against Ember’s cheek. “Such death. Such blood. It puts even Under to shame.”

The scent of flowers and fresh rain washed over Ember. The feeling of sitting at the side of a stream and laughing with friends. She felt her fear disappear like the morning fog.

“Ssh, that’s it,” the woman murmured and stroked a hand over her hair. “Poor thing. So much death…so much horror. You’re so tired. Oh, Lyon, where did you find her?”

“I believe she found me. When the world dropped, she appeared in the sanctuary of the cathedral.”

Ember shut her eyes. She felt safe. She felt like everything was going to be okay. She had never, ever known what that was like. Tears of relief began to form.

But only briefly.

She shoved away from the woman and pulled her spear from her back. Grasping it tightly in both hands, she pointed it at the blue, floating creature. “Stop. All of you stop.”

Once more, shockingly, they did. The woman clasped her hands together at her breast and floated to the ground. When her bare feet touched the marble, her hair settled around her and stopped defying gravity.

“I’m not—” Ember gritted her teeth and forced her voice to stop shaking. “I am not from your world. I do not know your ways. So, excuse me if this is rude, but I must insist you stop dicking around in my head!”

Her holler echoed through the huge stone chamber. The ghost of her voice bounced off the smooth surfaces and played back her anger long enough for it to have faded, and her resolve to waver.

She had just shouted at three inhuman creatures. One of whom drank blood by his own easy admission. The other wore a full