Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts by V. Lakshman Read Free Book Online Page A

safety over others and she knew it would not be her last. It was simply a matter of survival.
    * * * * *
    The village was small, counting no more than ten huts arranged around a central fire pit that still held glowing embers, protected by a rain shield made of some sort of metal. The rain hit it with a
pang
that sounded at once both hollow and strangely muffled. Alion could almost hear the drops slide down the shield, before they joined their brothers on the soaked earth. At best, the king’s mark estimated, there were less than fifty people here. She looked to Kalissa, who pointed to the second hut on her right. Alion put two fingers up and pointed.
    The men broke into smaller squads of four, each taking station silently at the entrance to each hut. The remainder of her men melded into the shadows in case any tried to sneak out, a strategy they had practiced and perfected over dozens of raids.
    When they were in position, Lieutenant Kearn signaled to the king’s mark, who strode into the center of the village and its fire pit. Grabbing a metal poker, she stoked the embers, then grabbed some wood from the pile. She threw this onto the fire, watching as it lit, growing slowly into a warm, orange dance of flames. Then, she casually ran the poker across the rain shield, the metal on metal creating a cacophony of sound.
    A few villagers to poke their heads out to see what was happening. At that moment those under Deft’s command exploded into action, streaming into each house and grabbing the people inside. Screams ensued as the village realized it was suddenly under attack, yet there was little defense offered, as the attackers were both well-trained and alert in comparison with these simple, sleep-addled folk.
    Three entered each house and battered people into submission. A fourth would move in quickly and collar them, the torc snapping into place before they knew what was happening. Instantly, any path to their powers would vanish, or at least that was the promise. These torcs could only be removed by one without Talent. It made for an infallible test of who exactly was a mage and who wasn’t. If they had no power, they could remove their torc easily. If not, the king’s mark would deal with them.
    * * * * *
    Stiven raced in behind his team, torcs ready. He saw a man go down with a strike to his forehead, the flat of the blade hitting him with a dull thud. Stiven was upon him, dropping his torch and snapping a torc in place with a simple thrust of his hand. He fumbled to make another ready and looked up, only to see a woman slashing downward with something. He raised his blade instinctively, hearing the strike of steel on steel and feeling the shock of impact. The sword tumbled from his cold, wet fingers as he fell onto his back.
    The woman carried a cleaver and raised her hand to strike again, but two swords plunged into her back as his squadmates came to his aid. They struck repeatedly as the woman let out a low groan, falling to her knees. They stabbed her even after she fell forward, face down and lifeless, pinning her body to the ground with their blades.
    One leaned on his sword, thrust through the back of the dead woman’s body, then looked up at Stiven and laughed, “She had some swing in that arm!”
    He didn’t answer, his mind still reeling from the speed of the attack and everything happening around him. Sitting on the ground, he watched numbly as the little girl who ran up to her dead mother’s body was torced, then pulled out of the hut along with her unconscious father.
    Alion smiled at the brutal efficiency of her men. The villagers put up little resistance and were soon rounded up and left kneeling in the mud of the central square. Those who were unconscious were dumped to the side under the watchful eyes of the guards. Those who had been killed were dragged from where they fell and laid out for the count, a grisly sight for the survivors. Within a few moments, the raid was over and the people of the