Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2 by Hailey Edwards Read Free Book Online Page A

is the next realm over. This is Hell.” He shook a hand through his hair, knocking blond dirt from the chestnut strands. “Or didn’t you notice the sign on the way in?”
    Chuckling, Harper scratched at his elbow. “Hell is a human concept.” There were worse things than dancing men in red tights holding tridents. Much worse things. Eliya taught him that with her silken gowns, her blood-red lips smiling over sharp teeth and her nails polished to a feral shine.
    On the distant horizon, a pinpoint of light glimmered amid shifting dunes. Squinting, he stepped off the magically fortified road and sank to his ankles in sand. Dread turned his stomach lining to lead. He glanced over his shoulder at the glassy shine of Dillon’s goggles and cursed.
    “Look there.” He pointed toward a trio of dark horses seated with pale-skinned riders. Askarans. A low growl rattled his chest. They poised on the colony’s boundary line, ready to intercept the lumbering caravan. “Our merchants are heading straight for them.”
    Sandstorm remnants swallowed his warning cry. His wings twitched, but these winds would sandblast him to the bone if he attempted flight. “We have to—”
    Behind him, an explosion ripped open his ears. The mineshaft’s gaping maw spewed shrapnel and belched smoke plumes. Scalding heat blasted Harper. Air crushed from his lungs as his face planted in the sand. He came up spitting grains and snarling with rage. Viscous warmth coated his cheek. He touched his face, pulling back bloody fingers clotted with pale gray debris.
    Picking a rock shard from the wound, he tossed it aside and forced his legs to bear him. Behind him, Dillon swayed on his feet. His calf oozed, pooling crimson on the thirsty ground.
    Miners scrabbled from the depths, expelled by the mine’s final, smoke-filled cough.
    “What…the hell…was that?” Dillon ripped the rag from his face, gasping.
    Harper blinked red from his vision, straining his eyes where he last saw the caravan and the Askaran raiders. Three black slashes scored the dunes, bodies. Hoofprints led to the north, toward the city of Feriana, their closest neighbor. He spit blood and grit. Filthy black marketers. Six weeks’ worth of sweat gone in fiery seconds.
    He snarled his reply. “The last straw.” Turning from the mine, his back screamed as wind tore at his already tender flesh. Infection concerned him, but not enough to stop him from stalking toward the barn and popping open Diani’s stall door. The mare nickered in greeting, nudging his hand in hopes of finding a palmed fig. “Forgive me, beautiful girl.” He stepped back, and she followed him into the aisle. He grabbed a fistful of white mane and swung onto her bare back. Her muscles twitched as if dislodging a pest. He hung on, guiding her into a trot past Dillon.
    “Prepare a litter. I’ll check for survivors.” He reached in his pocket, checking for his mirrored plate. “Watch for my signal.” Tired and burnt, miners sat on pavers or lay in the sand, catching their breath. “Send Mason for a priest if one is needed.”
    Askaran healers, priests, cost their weight in silver. Still, it would be years before Evanti practitioners matched their vast knowledge. With a frustrated sigh, he urged Diani into a run.
    Cheeks burning, he allowed the horse her head. Let her race the familiar road as his eyes closed, dry and burning. When her steps stuttered, he knew she’d picked up the scent of blood and shied from it. He swung his leg over, hitting the road with a crunch. A glance down revealed a pair of goggles he kicked aside. He withdrew his mirror and let sunlight glint across it in a signal before checking bodies the eager desert worked to bury precious inches beneath her skin.
    Straining his senses, he scanned for the telltale swirl of sand traps, magical remnants left over from road refortifications. They resembled quicksand, but their sentient hunger was far deadlier and their jaws impossible to escape. He