Mythborn by V. Lakshman Read Free Book Online Page A

man smiled, a flash of white teeth. “We serve what is best for our people, and you are most important to that end.” The man paused and turned back to his yeoman to whisper something. The blue warrior bowed and ran off, his sprint barely leaving a trace or sound.
    Arek began to feel these “men,” whatever they were, lived in complete harmony with their environment. Their steps did not disturb even a blade of grass. Then he felt Niall grab his arm, pulling him closer.
    “Don’t trust him.”
    “Why?” Arek whispered back.
    “Don’t tell him who—”
    The man turned back, interrupting whatever Niall would have said, and explained, “Forgive me, but we must make haste. We are your escort.”
    He then seemed to notice Niall and turned to address him with a formal bow. “It is a great honor to meet one of the old blood, Prince Galadine.”
    Before Arek could say anything Niall answered, “You know me, too?”
    The man paused, his eyes flitting to Niall’s hands before answering, “Of course, Your Grace. We have been instructed to escort both of you to Lord Arek’s father.”
    Shock brought silence to both of them, but Arek spoke first. “My father?”
    The man in armor nodded. “He has been most eager to meet you, but until now circumstances have made your reunion all but impossible.”
    “Circumstances?” asked Niall.
    The man looked rueful when he answered, “The war has exacted much from our forces. Guaranteeing your safety was paramount and required immense forbearance. Your father is most patient to have let his love for you wait this long.”
    Arek felt confused and asked, “War? Lilyth said there’s no war in her realm.”
    An uncomfortable silence grew as the man seemed to be searching for an answer. He finally said simply, “You did not appear within her lands. There is danger, and we must make haste.” He looked to his men and issued commands in a language neither of the boys understood. The blue-skinned warriors moved quickly into formation.
    When they had assembled, the man turned back and said to Niall, “Your Grace, may I beg your favor?”
    Confusion ran across Niall’s features, but he nodded for the man to continue.
    “Many envoys were dispatched at the news of your arrival. Whoever greeted you first was to send back proof of your identity, something specific to you. Upon confirmation, soldiers will be sent to protect our passage.”
    “Proof?” replied Niall. “What kind of proof?”
    The man in silver flexed his wings, a smooth motion that started and ended with the casualness one would use to move an offending lock out of one’s eyes. It was this very casualness that made the gesture seem inhuman, causing both Arek and Niall to take a step back. He tilted his head and gestured to Niall’s hands, still smiling.
    The prince looked down, at first not understanding. Then he noticed the glint of his signet ring, and asked, “My ring?”
    “I can appreciate your confusion, Your Highness, but in a realm where thoughts are reality—” he raised his hand and a sparkle of air coalesced into a flute filled with an amber colored drink—“the highlord must be certain he’s sending his forces to the right place.”
    He took a long swallow then tossed the glass into the air where it disappeared into a scintillating cloud of particles. “Your signet is something unique to you, and difficult to conjure because of its exactness. It is more than a simple aperitif.”
    Arek could feel Niall look at him, clearly hoping he had an answer to this strange angel’s demands, but said nothing. The cloud of particles still held his attention. They dispersed quickly, but for a moment swooped and dived like a flock of birds or a swarm of insects. Why would these particles have intelligence? The young adept thought for a moment, then looked at the man and asked, “What is your name, sir?”
    The man bowed. “I am Gabreyl, and I promise Prince Galadine’s ring will be returned safely to him. It is