Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) G.O. Turner (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📖

The Lightbringer gasped, holding her breath till it ached. She had heard tales of the dark cities below. How much of this was that versus what the azers influenced?

Liv’s hand slid to her mace, squeezing the hilt. Its worn leather straps molded to her grip, the comforting heft of its divine connection. So long as it was there, she would never be alone.

Down the avenue, past open canals of flowing lava, Leafar’s carriage slowed its progress. Standing on the bench, he hoisted himself to peer over the rooftop. “Upon our arrival at the garrison, if you can retrieve your weapons without appearing to arm yourselves…” Leafar eyed each. “I think that would be a good thing—show you understand you’re here as guests.”

Liv responded, “Your purpose would be?”

“Why, that you have nothing to hide. You have no intent to conceal.”

“And?” Ruein glowered.

Leafar offered a sheepish eye roll. “And, of course, your weapons will be stowed while you are guests in the citadel.”

With an errant flip upwards, Twigs produced his staff and dagger. “I’ve no problem. Pretty much just use this for carving apples.”

“Ceer have problem.” The half-orc crossed his thick arms. “If Haraden disarms Ceer, he will be unable to walk or open doors. Ceer like hands and feet.”

“I,” Ruein snapped toward the half-orc, “am here by invitation.” She slid closer and looked up at him. “If at any point you feel you do not wish to proceed, you are more than welcome to hold back. If you wish to come along, we keep this simple.” Her vacant eyes drifted over to Liv’s.

Liv snorted. “I sure as shit didn’t travel all this way just to learn secondhand what happened from here. And I’m certainly not letting you wander in alone.” Unhooking it from her belt, she withdrew her family mace. She rested its flanged head in her lap, then forced a smile upon her face. Her teeth beamed their best to convey she was nonthreatening.

Their tour ended at the mountain’s garrison. This edifice was more palatial than military. Its carved wood-and-brass filigree gates stood open to receive guests, alongside dark-orcs and lizard-mounted drow. Leafar rang his bell and the carriage rolled to a stop in the central court. A drow commander sidled up to the carriage, his lizard mount scritched talons in the dirt.

Offering up Ruein’s parchment for inspection, Leafar signaled for everyone to dismount.

With the headbox crooked underarm, Ruein descended the ladder. She whispered to Liv, “So far so good. Everyone seems to be on their better behavior.”

“Regardless, they’re still underdarkers. Do you imagine this place really could weed out that sort of treachery?”

Ruein was careful to keep her cloak tightly wrapped as she departed for the rear of the carriage and opened the back hatch. Two lizard riders moved to flank her. Long spears arced from their saddle sheaths. The drow did not reach for them but made clear they could.

Ruein countered with cold regard. Her stare latched to the closer, then the farther one.

With a slow, intentional withdrawal, Ruein retrieved her glaive from inside the carriage. Her gauntlet gripped just below the blade. She climbed down and held the weapon out for all to see.

Ruein had her drow experience.

Unlike Ceer’s open challenge, this was more a demonstration. Oh, yeah. Her sister was not to be intimidated. Maintaining her composure, Ruein marched between the lizards and rejoined the rest of the troupe.

Liv gazed up over the building before them. She craned her neck to observe the brass spires of the citadel against the blue sky, so far above. Now, this close to the volcano, she could make out movement. It was slow but apparent. The floating structure was shifting steadily in a right-handed crawl.

Trailing her gaze back to earth, Liv took in the façade before her. This building seemed carved from the porous stone of the mountainside. Dark-gray pitted rock had been shaved to flat surfaces. The brass filigree that hallmarked the entry gates also worked around its many pillared accents. Charcoal dark against bronze, it was an extravagant structure, both intimidating and majestic.

A massive arch centered before them, more than ten yards tall. Through there were brilliantly illuminated palace halls where figures roamed.

Handing the parchment to Leafar, the drow commander addressed their troupe. His lithe tongue announced in undercommon. Leafar cleared his throat before translating. “Invited guests of Haraden. You are to be presented before the High Council. The commander of the Elite requires you to surrender up anything which may be perceived a threat.” Leafar rolled his eyes. Yeah, we all knew this was coming. “Your items will be stowed here, in guarded lockers. Should you need to retrieve them, they will be readily available for you once you have departed.”

Liv flashed Leafar a look.

The gnome lifted hands. “He means when you exit the building, not the whole fakakamamee realm.”

She didn’t care much for leaving her mace. But what choice did they have? Besides, it wasn’t Liv’s only means of force. While her Lightbringer abilities were devastating to the undead, they were also not without their charms on the light-sensitive—those sorts found in the underdark.

Sure, without the comfort of that divine connection, it’d likely still be easy to find something worth bashing someone with, in most situations.

A pair of bearded duergar began to collect weapons. Ruein offered up her glaive and death’s-head dagger. Twigs, in kind, surrendered his pocket blade and staff. Relenting with a huff, Liv thrust her mace toward their ash-grey hands.

The duergar stumbled back and groused in undercommon. Ruein translated, “He says, it’s heavier than it looks.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s quite the nutcracker,” said Liv.

Offering himself up for inspection, Ceer gave a tusky grin as the duergars went over him. Perplexed looks were all they could manage before conceding the half-orc had no weapons.

Their drow commander brought his lizard alongside the arch. He leaned into his saddle, smiling. A dower lilt slid over his attempt at common. “You I clear to…proceed.”

Leafar took the entry steps. “Oooh. Look at who’s been practicing his