The Light of Burning Shadows Read Free Page A

Each surge and wallow of the boat acted like a punch to his gut. Sweat drenched his face and stung his eyes, making it hard to see, though in this darkness it made little difference. Someone, or more specifically, something on the island ahead of them was going to pay for his suffering. He stood up a little straighter and spat into the wind.
    “Damn it!”
    He wiped off his face and looked over his shoulder. Lanterns wrapped in heavy canvas and hung from iron pikes gave off a feeble orange glow, illuminating the boat and its complement of sailors and Iron Elves. Konowa cursed the need for any light at all, but the men in the boat did not have elven eyes. Looking beyond the boat he could just make out their starting point, Her Majesty’s seventy-two-gun ship-of-the-line Black Spike. If all went well, they would be back on her decks by nightfall.
    Konowa returned his gaze forward. Somewhere ahead of them lay Wikumma Island, the last and southernmost in a chain of seven islands in the Onmedan Sea stretching between Elfkyna and the Hasshugeb Expanse. The six previous islands had been—for lack of a better word—infested with the Shadow Monarch’s growing forest. The small populations that had lived on the islands—mostly fishermen and their families—had been slaughtered by Her forest, leaving not a man, woman, or child alive. Each island was a sun-drenched horror, and Konowa grew angrier with every gruesome discovery.
    This had to stop. He had to take the fight directly to the Shadow Monarch. For Konowa, that meant finding the original Iron Elves and marching straight to Her mountain. That She wanted the original elves for Her designs as She wanted Konowa made it all the more crucial Konowa find them first. The power he wielded was incredible, and he was the least magical elf that had ever set foot in a forest. Even some of the human soldiers showed a knack for using the frost fire, albeit with haphazard results. While the power of the blood oath bound every soldier in the regiment, its magical properties resided primarily with its only remaining elf, Konowa. Imagining what the Shadow Monarch could do with a highly trained regiment of elves completely under Her control made even Konowa shudder.
    The bow of the boat dipped and took a wave over the top, spraying Konowa from head to foot.
    “Damn it all to hell!”
    “War is no excuse for language like that, my son,” Chayii Red Owl said. “And we are but three bowshots’ distance from the island. You really should get down from there.”
    A snigger, a muffled giggle, even an innocent cough would have launched Konowa at the throat of the unlucky person, but not a one gave any indication that he had heard Konowa being scolded by his mother. There were five boats currently being rowed toward the island, and of course it was Konowa’s luck that his vessel had his mother on board.
    “Uncork your musket, unwrap the firelock, and prepare to fire,” Konowa said from the bow, deliberately ignoring his mother’s advice. The soldiers reacted instantly, well versed now in the drill after having stormed six islands before. They knew from experience that things would happen fast.
    “Sergeant Arkhorn, ready your cannon.” Each boat was equipped with a small six-pounder cannon strapped to the bow with ropes facing forward. It wasn’t subtle, but then again neither were rakkes.
    “Aye, sir, ready and waiting,” the dwarf said, giving the barrel of the cannon a solid slap with the palm of his hand. “The beasties will know what hit ’em, but not for long.” Beside him, Private Renwar peered down the length of his musket, his hands rock steady. Konowa had made it known to the sergeant that Renwar need not join them on the island assaults on account of his wooden leg. Surprisingly, Chayii had objected, though she had refused to elaborate. Konowa had also tried to bring the subject up with Visyna, but talking with her was even more frustrating. They agreed on nothing—not the