The Darkest Sword Samantha Kroese (easy books to read in english .TXT) 📖

attempts to quell his despair only made it worse. She painted a beautiful picture of hope. Love, family. And part of him wanted it. The rest knew that it was impossible. Stupid. It had been stupid of him to keep her.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Ashiyn. Don’t let him win,” Annalysa said, as she pulled back and dressed. “Go and get the sword. I believe in you. Believe in yourself. Where’s that arrogance when you need it?”

“Just stay safe until I get back,” Ashiyn muttered then opened the door to call for Sark to escort Annalysa back to her cell.

“Have no fear. He will not take another child from me. If he comes for me, perhaps I will solve your problem for you,” Annalysa said, her eyes hard. Then she smiled at Sark and let the lizardman escort her away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rhadamanthus had a knack for suspecting when Ashiyn wanted time to himself it seemed. Days passed before Ashiyn had opportunity to sneak away from the castle. Finally, Rhadamanthus was in a meeting which Ashiyn could not attend that would likely last the entire day. Ashiyn fled to the stable to retrieve Illusion. The cave where the sword was said to be hidden was half a day’s ride. He dared not travel through the shadows in case there were magical traps inside. So, he saddled Illusion and burst out of the castle at a full gallop, Illusion also eager for the chance to run.

The horse was obstinate and spirited. Sometimes the stallion obeyed him and other times, it had a mind of its own and Ashiyn would have to coax it into obedience. Ashiyn figured the creature’s duplicity just indicated how intelligent it was. Illusion seemed to sense his urgency today, though, and eagerly took direction as long as Ashiyn let the horse have its head for the run.

Ashiyn slowed the lathered, snorting horse as they came to rubble. Whatever had stood on this ground had deteriorated to nothing but dust and fallen stones. As Illusion picked his way through the debris, Ashiyn noticed bits of broken statues: a hand, a finger, even part of a face with an eye. Then parts of feathered wings. All sculpted from the finest white marble but destroyed, pulverized. A heavy feeling of doom lay over the area almost as solid as the mist that wisped through the air. It seemed so much darker here than it had outside the ruins, and that had nothing to do with the giant trees that surrounded the area.

Suddenly, Illusion squealed and shied to the side, almost unseating Ashiyn from the saddle as they came to a crypt that was simply more rubble surrounding a pitch-black hole in the ground. Ashiyn fought to soothe the horse, then as soon as he could manage it, he slipped from the saddle. Deciding Illusion would be safer at the edge of the grove, he walked the stallion over to tie him to a tree. He made sure to tie it loose just in case something unforeseen happened. He wouldn’t want the horse to die just because it couldn’t pull away if it needed.

Ashiyn pulled his blade from its sheath on his back. A chill worked through his spine as he walked back to the dark entrance. Whatever had spelled this place had certainly wanted to keep people away he had to fight the urge to run away with every step. Unfortunately, unless he was willing to watch Annalysa die, he had to do this. He would never be free himself without the power of this sword. If it even existed.

Ashiyn shook himself and clenched his jaw. He was immortal. What’s the worst that could happen, really? It was not as though he had not already died countless times. Summoning the boldness born from his arrogance, he attempted to descend into the crypt. He had been born with uncanny night-sight for a human but it was so dark even that did not help.

After stumbling down a few stairs, he growled and used his magic to summon a flame above one hand to light the way. The long flight of stairs ended at the entrance to a huge room. As he sent the flame ahead of him to light the room he could see massive statues lined each wall. One side held beautiful humans with feathered wings, the other side held demonic creatures with bat wings and horns. Each statue was carved to look like they were weeping. He used the flame to light the torches set up around the room.

An impressive stone altar stood in the middle of the room. The hilt of a massive broadsword protruded from the stone. The handle alone indicated the sword might be as long as Ashiyn was tall. How would he wield something that large? He would figure it out, he decided, as he started forward.

Each time he passed a set of statues, they let out a horrifying wail of anguish and blood poured down from their eyes like tears. The first set unnerved him enough he stopped to look at them, expecting a trap. But nothing happened beyond the continued flow of blood tears. Giving the next set an annoyed glare when they cried out, he continued to stalk forward. He could sense power beyond his comprehension. It lay dormant, sleeping, within the blade. Unlike anything he had ever felt before. Ashiyn trembled a little at the thought of wielding that much power. If he could unlock it, Rhadamanthus would be no match for him. This blade had drunk the blood of the immortal celestials, perhaps even more than their blood. Dark magic flowed through the blade like blood through veins.

Come. Free me. I have long waited a worthy master. Release me and I will give you all that you desire.

 

Ashiyn balked at the deep baritone voice ringing through his head. He looked around, but there was no one there.