Shrouded: Heartstone Book One Read Free

well as his manner were against him, despite the fact that he carried King Pelinol’s blood, and regardless of the fact that the king wanted so desperately for the boy to take the crown. No, it would be Haftan or Mofitan, and for his sake Dolfan prayed it would be the first.
    The curtain drew aside and Peryl pranced back through. Shayd followed, tall and stiff as a statue. He fit in here, amongst the incense and the spirals. Not one of the rest of them could hope to take Syradan’s place. He tilted his head to acknowledge Dolfan’s arrival or possibly to chastise his tardiness. Reading Shayd’s stony expression rivaled psionics amongst the list of things Dolfan couldn’t do well.
    “Is he ready for us?” Haftan’s eagerness swelled to embarrassing proportions. The man wanted to be king enough for all of them. Dolfan frowned. Maybe too much. Perhaps Tondil could succumb to the Heart, even if it meant a single mate from that point on. Perhaps even Peryl might—
    “Yes,” Peryl answered where Shayd would only nod and gesture to the curtain. “It’s time.”
    Too late to wonder now . Dolfan stared through the gap into the sanctuary. The room lay dark and full of rolling smoke. The ceremony they’d come for was a mystery to everyone on Shroud, to all their people and to anyone who hadn’t been a member of a Council, who hadn’t been a prince. He’d never spared it any curiosity. Now he stared it in the face and set his jaw. He could take whatever Syradan might summon.
    Seven princes formed the Council, one for each remaining Shrouded bloodline. Each held the hopes of their line in their veins, the hopes of all the Shrouded. Each had been chosen by their predecessor to take up a ring and form the new Council, and one of them—any one of them—would be the next King of Shroud.
    Just don’t let it be me . He could take anything, even Mofitan enthroned, if it meant Dolfan could remain himself. Let it be Haftan . He chanted in his mind and stepped forward, beating Mofitan to the archway and following Tondil straight into the darkness.

Chapter Two
    T he Chromian saved her life . Vashia caught the glint of a Haji card as she ran. A stubby arm tilted it to catch the light and, when she drew even with the alley, gestured for her to follow. She veered without slowing, ducked through the side alley and followed the waist-high alien through a crack between buildings.
    She could feel Jarn’s hounds breathing down her neck. At every crossroad, the gray hulk of a hover car had blocked her, steered her like a hare before the hunt. Vashia couldn’t guess where the man drove her, but she didn’t care to be herded any more than she liked being chased, blocked, or cut off.
    Her veins throbbed. She struggled for breath as the Chromian led her deeper into the narrow space. She couldn’t run here, and, for an instant, her panic flared. If Jarn cornered her now, she’d be hard pressed to escape him. She considered squeezing back out the way she’d entered, but the lumpy little man thumped his tail hard against the ground and caught her attention once more.
    He held up the corner of a tarp, stringy with age and slick with things better left unidentified. When she balked, he thumped his tail again and glanced back to the alley. Vashia took the hint and dropped down, wiggling under the scrap that couldn’t possibly hide someone her size. She scooted closer to the building, the cover’s weight pressing her crouch even lower, and tried to make herself invisible.
    Her legs dropped into a hole. She fought the urge to snap them back out again, but only half managed to stifle her scream into a barely audible squeak. The tarp rippled and the Chromian’s round face pushed into view. It vanished as he dropped the cover back into place, but Vashia felt him brush past her. She heard the click and purr of his speech as he urged her to follow.
    She’d gone from the governor’s estate to the bottom of a pothole in one short day. If it meant