Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles Read Free Page A

blunted. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but white. When she tried to listen, she heard nothing but dissonance. She could barely feel the sweat on her skin. Or the blanket on which she lay.
    In other ways her senses were heightened. She could smell Torg’s sweet breath and feel the beating of his heart. And somehow, when her eyes were closed, she could see through the stone to where Lucius and the others lay sobbing outside the cave. She wanted to tell them that the pain belonged to her alone. But she didn’t know how.
    Laylah’s body went into a spasm, her legs kicking like a pair of insane scissors, her arms flailing against the stone floor with wicked thuds, her eyes opening and closing frenetically, casting beams of molten light that smote the walls and ceiling. In the midst of this chaos, the efrit slept peacefully within her abdomen, perceiving no threat.
    She felt Torg hold her even tighter, attempting to corral her white rages with his blue-green might. Part of her wanted to embrace his magic, part of her expel it. But he did not ask for permission. Instead, he rode her waves of agony like a leaf on the surface of a raging river. The worst of her pain went on for almost half the night. Without him, she would have perished.
    Just before dawn, the pain finally lessened, allowing her to regain full consciousness and to realize where she lay. Now she could feel the sweat on her body and the chill of the stone. When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see darkness; the all-consuming white had fled. Even better, the voracious mouths that had tormented her seemed to have lost their hunger and blessedly departed. She shivered in her nakedness. In response, large arms held her. It had not been just a dream amid nightmare. Torg was truly here.
    “The tide has turned,” she heard him whisper.
    She tried to respond but could manage nothing intelligible.
    “Shhhhh  . . . quiet now,” he soothed. “Try to sleep. You need to rebuild your strength. And when you wake, we’ll try a sip of water.”
    In the silence of the cave, they lay entwined.
    And for a time she knew no more.
    WHEN THE FINAL shreds of the murky shroud slipped off the surface of the moon, the explosions of light emanating from the cave ceased. One last puff of smoke issued from the maw, as if the den were burping after a spicy meal. Lucius sat up, wiped tears from his eyes, and stared at the narrow entrance distrustfully, not allowing himself to believe that the dreadful cacophony had ended.
    He turned to his companions and was surprised to see that all had fallen asleep. Just a moment before, they had been sobbing and moaning, but now Ugga, Bard, Rathburt, and Elu slept beneath the setting moon as silently as corpses. Even their usual harmonic cascade of snoring was surprisingly absent. But nature’s chorus returned from its temporary absence. Lucius could hear the songs of crickets and the hooting of an owl.
    On hands and knees, he crawled to the mouth of the cave and peered inside. He could see only darkness, but could smell the wispy remnants of smoke swirling in the air. For reasons he could not define, his heart pounded like a frightened child’s. Part of him wanted to scramble into the cave and rush to Laylah’s side. But another part knew that she no longer belonged to him, if she ever had. The sorceress was beyond him, in power and scope. Denying this would only cause more anguish.
    While the owl continued its lonesome call, Lucius sat outside the cave, his face flushed and swollen. He felt disoriented, as if his body were not his own. He stayed there as the moon plunged hurriedly behind a line of trees.
    Even as dawn took hold of the day, the cave remained silent. But it beckoned him, nonetheless. The realization that Laylah was lost to him did not lessen his feelings for her. If he could not be her lover, he still could protect her as a friend. That wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, considering he was little more than a freak born