Bitterwood by James Maxey Read Free Book Online

moonlight and hoped they were again near the forest’s edge. Zanzeroth stopped abruptly and Gadreel nearly collided with him.
    The earth-dragons skidded to a halt behind them. One muttered, “The lines.” Gadreel looked over his shoulder but couldn’t tell which earth-dragon had spoken.
    Straining his neck to see around Zanzeroth, Gadreel could see that whoever had spoken had been correct. They had reached one of the bleached, cracked stone lines that stretched endless miles through the kingdom. Some scholars claimed the lines were only ancient roads, built by a long-vanished race of giants. A more common belief was that the barren, flat stone marked a web of evil energy that ran through the earth. In the presence of this cursed ground, the night was unnaturally quiet.
    “So, hunter,” Albekizan whispered. “You still believe it’s only a man we chase? No man alive would dare to walk the ghost lines.”
    “He will if he’s desperate,” said Zanzeroth. “Our prey thinks we won’t follow because of the curse. You’ve known me long enough to know that I’ve never placed stock in such foolishness. This is merely old rock. We have nothing to fear. The dogs have already run ahead. We’ll catch him yet.”
    “We shall give chase from the air,” said Albekizan. “The soldiers shall run along the line.”
    “Sire?” the captain of the earth-dragons said. The light yellow scales on his throat trembled.
    “You heard the order,” Albekizan said, leaping into the air, his feet never touching the haunted stone.
    Zanzeroth followed and Gadreel, too. The earth-dragons hesitantly stepped onto the crumbling stone line then turned their eyes heavenward and chased their king.
    Gadreel was glad to be in the air once more but he had no time to enjoy it. Barely a quarter mile ahead the ox-dogs turned from the line, loping down a steep, vine-covered bank. They turned and entered a small tunnel that ran beneath the broad highway of stone.
    As Gadreel landed, one of the dogs yelped. The second dog scurried backward from the tunnel.
    Zanzeroth peered into the dark opening. Gadreel strained to see and spotted the first ox-dog, dead, its head crushed by a heavy stone. Zanzeroth took a spear from his quiver, pushed the shaft along the floor, then lifted it to reveal a loop of thin rope.
    “A deadfall,” he muttered. “The killer has booby-trapped his escape route. Cunning, for a human.”
    “This is Bitterwood,” said Albekizan. “The predator. He’s no mere human.”
    Zanzeroth nodded then took the remaining dog by the leash and led him back over the stone line to the other side of the short tunnel. The dog found the scent once more as the earth-dragons at last caught up. Zanzeroth wrapped the leash tightly around his talon so that the dog couldn’t run too far ahead. Gadreel followed, growing ever more nervous. They were walking along the diamond. All the winged dragons were familiar with the place for it could be seen from the air for miles: four gigantic stone circles surrounded by an even larger diamond of stone. There were several of these constructs throughout the kingdom, in places where the mystery lines crossed in elaborate networks of ramps and bridges. The last remnants, perhaps, of a long-vanished culture. These places were much feared, for four circles were the symbol of death.
    To Gadreel’s relief, the ox-dog veered away from the edges of the diamond and led them to a large field of broken stone. In the midst of the field sat an ancient, low building formed of vine-covered brick. The sky brightened with the approach of dawn, giving Gadreel some comfort.
    As he allowed himself to relax slightly, a whistling noise cut through the air. With a sickening wet thunk , an arrow lodged deep between the eyes of the ox-dog. The huge beast sighed then slumped forward, all life gone.
    Zanzeroth leapt before the king, spreading his wings wide to shield him. “He’s in yonder structure. Take cover, Sire!”
    “Never!”