The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price Read Free Page A

did.”
    My jaw clenched. I looked past him to Rosalyn. Her eyes had fear in them now, but it couldn’t be helped. “Which way did she go?”
    “In there.” Rosalyn gave a jerk of her head and I followed it to the large expanse of swamp to the east. Bordering all three kingdoms of Rella, Kael, and Langor, as well as the outskirts of the uninhabited wasteland where the Shinree Empire once stood, the broad swathe of marshland had been aptly and unimaginably named the Northern Borderlands. Encasing near the entire northeast, and a bit of the south, the thick, dark, vast wall of vegetation was topped with an even thicker, darker roof of swollen, gray clouds.
    Where the swamp’s edge bled out into the meadow was a good mile away. Yet distance wasn’t doing a damn thing to blunt the sweet fragrance of rot on the wind.
    “I hear the place is more foul even than Langor,” Rosalyn said nervously.
    “Nothing’s more foul than Langor.” I studied the shadowy clouds gathering over the dense wetlands. “But I’m guessing it’ll be a close second.”
    Her father tapped my leg with his crutch. “So what are you now? It ain’t ever easy puttin’ down the sword, so I’m guessing…mercenary? Bounty hunter? Or did she just piss you off?”
    “I’ve done both,” I relented. “Mostly bounties for the last couple years though. But, pissed off works too.” Taking the reins in my hands, I stared back into the twisted mess of overgrowth and fog. Tracking through it was going to be difficult.
    Not with magic,
I thought, knowing it wouldn’t take much.
    A simple tracking spell and I’d have her by nightfall.
    The stone on the cord around my neck warmed. My pulse jumped.
    Tightening the reins in my hands, I shook off the urge. “When did she leave?”
    Rosalyn scanned the sky. “Two or three hours ago?” Her gaze fell to mine. “Who wants her, your lady outlaw?”
    “She escaped from the city prison in Kael a couple months back. But from the amount of bodies under her belt, I imagine a lot of people.”
    “Well, she’s met her match now,” her father said boldly. “No way some girly with a sword is more dangerous than you, a Shinree soldier. I know what you did,” he said again.
    I nodded. “Do we have a problem?”
    “I was an army man myself,” he said, completely disregarding my question. “First Lieutenant. King’s Regiment. In fact, the last time I had two good feet under me, I was standing guard at the very gates of the castle. That was,” his eyes wandered, “must be twenty-five, twenty-six years ago. But you were probably too young to remember.”
    “Remember what?”
    “How it smelled the day King Draken burned Rella’s greatest city to the ground.”
    “Kabri,” I said. “I was six. I remember well enough.”
    “Things turned straight to shit after that day. Rella issued a formal declaration of war on Langor and I sat around with this one leg,” he slapped it angrily, “growing old and useless while everyone else went off and died defending my home.”
    Rosalyn put a hand on his arm. “Father, don’t.”
    “Hush, girl.” Craning his neck, he looked around me to the packs on my saddle. “So where is it then, that filthy piece of magic? I’m guessing there’s no way King Raynan let you keep it.”
    I pictured the Crown of Stones where I left it ten years ago, in Rella’s capital, on the island city of Kabri, nestled in the folds of Aylagar’s burial robes. “It’s safe.”
    He watched me a moment. “You know, I get what it was like. I did my time on the line. Reports would trickle in…the massacres in the villages,the kidnappings. I can imagine the things you saw, how desperate it was at the end. The bastards were whipping us pretty good those last few months, but…damn, son…there had to be another way.”
    “Another way?” My anger flared. The expectance in his voice—it was like I owed him an explanation. Like he wanted me to swear that I tried everything else first. That I