Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

Most of the snares were empty, but the four rabbits they found dangling from their hind legs would be enough for a small dinner for the group. It was better than nothing – and definitely better than stale bread and dried meat.

Dahlen was at the end of his story when Calen and Dann returned to the camp. Aeson listened intently and stroked his grey-flecked beard, his eyes focused on something in the dark canopy above.

“Did it give any indication of why it wanted Rist?” Therin interjected, sitting forward.

“No.” Dahlen sighed and shook his head. “It just said that he was… interesting.”

Erik gestured for Calen and Dann to join them.

“Go ahead,” Dann said, “I’m just going to skin these and get them prepped to set up over the fire before I sit down. My stomach is rumbling. I’ll be able to hear fine.”

Calen nodded and sat on the ground beside Erik.

“Interesting?” Erik said. Aeson and Therin exchanged a flash of recognition.

“Rist is connected to the Spark,” Therin replied. “He has the power to wield magic. And if what I sensed initially is anything to go by, he has to potential to be quite powerful.”

Calen stared at him in disbelief, unable to stop his mouth from opening wide. Rist? Rist is…

“Rist is a mage?” Dann said, dumbstruck, halfway through skinning one of the rabbits.

Calen wasn’t sure what to say or even what to think. Rist had been one of his closest friends ever since he could remember. They did everything together. He was not a mage. Mages – or at least, people who could use magic – they were fairy tales. They were the heroes and villains of Therin’s stories. Therin. There was somebody else who wasn’t who Calen thought he was.

“How are we getting him back?” Dann’s voice cut through the silent echoes in Calen’s mind.

“I’m not sure that will be possible,” Aeson replied, his tone flat. “If that Fade was working with Lorian soldiers, then he will be taking Rist to the High Tower in Berona. That is where the inquisitors bring all young men who can wield the Spark. And if he is strong enough, he will be inducted into the Circle of Magii. The empire would not let a wielder with his potential roam free. And unless I am mistaken, nobody here is in the position to march into the High Tower and demand they release him.”

“But…” Calen’s voice was brittle, even to his own ears. Helplessness permeated his entire body. He couldn’t let that feeling consume him. He would not. “No.”

“Calen, I truly am sorry, but Aeson is right. We simply don’t have the ability to help him. Not yet, at least.” Therin’s eyes showed genuine concern.

“I can’t just leave him!” shouted Calen. The burning in his veins caused his voice to rise a touch louder than he intended. “I… I can’t just leave him. He would never leave me. Dann, your bags. Make sure you have everything.”

Dann had fallen silent for the last few minutes, which was unlike him. He looked up from his feet when Calen spoke. “What? Why?”

“We’re going to Berona. We’re going after Rist.”

CHAPTER 19

Bound

Aeson and Erik spent the majority of the next hour trying to explain to Calen why it was madness to go after Rist.

“Even making it to Berona is a near impossibility,” Aeson said, “The empire keeps a strict hold on the travel between the north and the south of the continent. Only two ports in Illyanara make the journey to Loria, and neither of them are an option. Sailing from Gisa is impossible unless you have more coin than common sense, not to mention that you and Dann would stick out like sore thumbs in that crowd. Falstide is worse. It’s cheaper to travel, for sure, but it’s cheaper for a reason. It’s a den of smugglers, thieves, and murderers.”

Therin had been silent for a while. He had produced a small notebook and a short tin box of charcoal sticks from his bag and had been sketching something. He looked up from his notebook, folding it over as he did. “Even then,” he sighed, “the journey across the province would take nearly two months. The journey by ship would be another few days, and then you would have to travel through the Burnt Lands or brave the Lightning Coast to make it to Berona. The Darkwood is not even an option. It would be suicide.”

“We’re going after Rist. We leave at first light.”

It didn’t take long for Calen’s mind to drift into the world of dreams. His body ached in places he never thought possible, and his head beat like a drum. Aeson had insisted on continuing their sword practice that night, regardless of whether Calen left in the morning. He did not take it easy on him either. Calen lost count of the new bumps and bruises that sprang up long before they had even stopped practicing. It seemed like Aeson was trying to make a point of how helpless they would be if they left to go after Rist.

He longed for some respite from the physical world. His mind melted away.

Draleid.

Calen’s eyes shot open. He bolted upright, sweat glistening as it streamed down his face. He felt warmer than the heat from the crumbling embers of the fire should have made him. He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand and tried in vain to steady his breathing.

His dreams did not provide him the relief he had hoped they would. As soon as his eyes shut, a voice tormented him. Words echoed in his head, reverberating down every corridor in his mind.

Draleid n’aldryr.

Again and again, the voice rose to a crescendo. The only image was of the egg. The dragon egg. Its bone-white scales faded to a shadowy black at their roots. It was wreathed in plumes of billowing fire, but somehow Calen knew that it