The Silver Tower (The Age of Dawn Book 3) Read Free Page A

misery. The wounds Asebor inflicted did not respond well to Phoenix healing.
    “Good, rise to your feet. I need you, Alena. I need you to be strong.”
    She nodded quickly and stood slowly, the bulbous jades around her neck jingling. Asebor’s eyes flashed in a brilliant purple and he placed his shadowy hand to her delicate shoulder. His touch was like ice and goosebumps prickled along her arms. She stared at it and closed her eyes tightly, fists clenched, waiting expectantly for his wrath.
    “Do not fail me Alena, my favor,” he whispered. Wispy swirls of purple light sprung from her skin and then were sucked into her body. The green glow of her eyes brightened with a violet outline.
    “The power, your favor… thank you, my lord, for this gift. Thank you!” She stared at her hands, shimmering with a violet aura. “It’s magnificent,” she said, beaming with her perfect teeth, perfect skin, and perfect eyes.
    “Use it wisely. How are the preparations for the Tower assault?”
    “Excellent, great lord. I’ve resurrected over 8,000 bodies from the unmarked graves to the south. They’re ruthless, emotionless, respond to my every command, and do not feel pain. They’re perfect soldiers.” She rubbed her hands together and licked her full lips.
    “You’ll need more, the Tower is well fortified. Take half the battalion here. I’ll send you my Shattered Wings. I’ll make sure they obey.”
    “Excellent, thank you, my lord.”
    Asebor started walking the perimeter of the cave, scraping his talons along the walls. Alena remained where she stood, shuffling her long dancer’s feet.
    Asebor turned his head over his shoulder, “You witnessed the battle at the Plains of Dressna. Some say there was a wizard who slaughtered most of the army, others say the very sky turned against us, others the volcano rained its fury upon us.”
    “What do you say, Alena?”
    “It was certainly magic, I know not which. Burning lightning appeared from the sky, striking only our soldiers. They fell swiftly and what remained were quickly overwhelmed.”
    She shook her head, tilting her eyes to the cavern’s roof. “My precious creation is dead. I don’t know what I’ll do. So much time, so much power…the Lord of Death,” She trailed off and squeezed her forearm with her nails, drawing ellipses of red.
    The screeching of Asebor’s talons along the wall sent bits of stone falling in its wake.
    “Could it have been the dual wielder?” he asked, briefly pausing.
    Her breath caught and she inhaled sharply, releasing her arm in her steely grip. She frowned down at the blood and brought the arm to her mouth, wide tongue lapping at the wounds.
    “It—the spell would seem to match the histories of dual-wielder’s of ages past. One who can wield both the Dragon and the Phoenix…yes it must have been.”
    Asebor stopped, removing his hand from the wall. His body glimmered and transfigured into white mist. The luminescent mist glided towards her, passing through stone columns. The mist swirled into the shape of his towering form and vanished in a puff, revealing his armor clad form before her.
    “Malek,” Asebor breathed. “Have you seen him?”
    “No, the last I heard… Marcine told me he was punished, exiled and made—” Her throat vibrated and she fought off the urge to vomit. “Made Passive,” she worked out.
    “Yes. Now I am unable to sense his soul’s location in the realms.”
    The chains around Asebor’s arms unfurled, leaping straight up into air. Alena took a few hesitant steps back, face white as a sheet and the tendons around her neck went rigid with tension.
    “I’m sorry, great lord! I should have found the dual wielder! I’m sorry,” she wailed, dropping to her knees, her cloak falling open, torchlight casting a silhouette of her voluminous chest.
    “Get up,” he hissed. “Malek was to watch a farm boy in Midgaard. A boy who resisted the turning of the Cerumal armor.” He spun around and the chains