Target Of The Orders (Book 3) Read Free Page B

what the orders did in Arderveer, it just seems like the safest bet.”
    “I thought you were of the mind that says the orders aren’t going to be a problem?”
    “They’ll still be looking for Toreans.”
    “I’ll deal with them soon enough, then. But I see no need to align with the Freeborn to do it.”
    “You’ll be a one-man vigilante, then?”
    “I prefer to call it remaining neutral.”
    “Typical.”
    “I don’t play well with others.”
    “Your thinking is shortsighted,” Darien said. “Regardless of what the orders do or don’t do, your god-touch gives you a destiny. Sunathri seems a good leader, and the Freeborn seem to be a good group. The people could like them, or at least tolerate them better than the orders.”
    Garrick chuckled. “That will be the day.”
    “I could even see Dorfort aligning with the Freeborn someday.”
    “Spoken like the son of a politician.”
    Darien grumbled.
    “You are a true visionary, Darien. But I have enough trouble sorting out my own destiny without worrying about the rest of the world.”
    “Perhaps they are one and the same.”
    Garrick looped his horse’s reins in his hand.
    “All I want to do right now is to deliver this egg and get out of this town.”
    Darien shrugged, and the two turned the corner that would lead them to the viceroy’s manor.
    “Hold,” Garrick said, raising a hand and narrowing his gaze. Something bothered him.
    “What is it?” Darien asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    He closed his eyes and focused on the essence of the city. He sensed the same brittle edge to Caledena’s aura he had felt from a distance.
    “Something’s different,” he finally said.
    “I don’t notice anything,” Darien said.
    Kalomar nickered.
    Garrick put his hand on the horse’s flank. The animal had grown important to him—he was bright and reliable. Garrick trusted Kalomar instinctively, and the horse was worried, too.
    Still he could see nothing wrong.
    “Maybe it’s nothing,” Garrick finally said.
    They spurred their horses forward.
    Moments later Kalomar pinned his ears back, and Garrick’s gaze flashed around the area.
    “There are no guards in the street,” Darien suddenly said.
    Garrick nodded. Now that he had seen that one element, the rest of the pattern fell into place. Broken glass ringed several windows, and ragged parchment flapped from others. The normal throng of street derelicts was suddenly missing.
    “We best leave,” Garrick said, reaching for his link.
    But a wave of Lectodinian sorcery grew suddenly strong, and just as suddenly, Garrick found himself unable to move. He struggled against magical bindings, but got nowhere. He let his energy rise, but with his arms and legs locked in place there was little he could do with them.
    Darien, too, had been so restrained.
    “Welcome to Caledena,” a familiar voice came from behind.
    Lectodinian mages came to his view, the leader wearing a loose-fitting tunic with leather drawstrings that dangled to his chest. His hair was short, and a cowlick stood up in back.
    “Elman,” Darien said. “I thought we had seen the end of you when you ran away back in the mountains.”

Chapter 4

    Lectodinian mages surrounded them, the strength of their binding spells far greater than the sum of their parts. It reminded Garrick of the magic he had fallen prey to in the depths of Arderveer—that, too, had been the result of many mages working together.
    “You’ve learned to bring numbers,” Garrick said to Elman.
    “Of course. Lectodinians may have a certain vanity about us, but you would be a fool to confuse vanity with weakness, or a lack of intelligence.”
    Garrick did not reply.
    Elman leaned in close, and the smells of tobacco and lemony magic grew strong.
    “Things are a bit different from the last time we met, aren’t they, Garrick?”
    “We intend you no harm,” Garrick replied. “We just want to see the viceroy.”
    Elman stepped back. An amused smile crossed his face.
    “Do