Nightlord: Orb by Garon Whited Read Free Book Online Page A

in mind?”
    “Beryl was the only son of the greatest of the nightlords and the last fire-witch.  He was the only one with the capacity to hold a dark spirit born of that nightlord and the Devourer.”
    “A great potential is a burden, not a reason to—hold it.  He could have been a host to that thing?”
    “More than that.  He was host to that thing.”
    That stopped me.
    “You’re saying,” I said, slowly, “that the dark thing that’s been occupying my body for the last…”
    “Nine years.”
    Not six years, then.  Nine.  Still, not as bad as eighty-seven.
    “…the last nine years once tried to possess my son ?”
    “Not tried.  It succeeded.  The Mother ordered Tamara to hurl Beryl into the fire.”  Amber seemed more than a little distraught.  “Please understand, Father.  His yellow hair was not the red of a fire-witch—”
    I felt a twanging sensation from somewhere below, followed by a sudden psychic contact.
    Boss!
    “Firebrand?”
    The one and only.  Get down here!
    I refocused my attention from a disturbing and unpleasant conversation to a disturbing and unpleasant scene.  The gate room was much as I remembered it:  A large, circular room with a dome ceiling, a free-standing archway to one side, and a round pool raised up in the center of the floor.  Standing against the wall opposite the archway was a large, magical mirror.  Spaced along the far arc of the room, between archway and mirror, were the quasi-entombed prisoners.  I didn’t recognize any of the faces sticking out of the wall; none of them were elves.  Someone had either executed or released my original prisoners.  On the other hand, they added new ones, bringing the total to twenty-six.
    The only other thing I could sense in the room was Firebrand.  It was still on the hip of my body.  And, yes, my body was still standing there, apparently looking around as though wondering what to do.  It didn’t show up well on whatever senses a living rock has, probably because it was a soulless corpse.  An animated one, yes, but empty.
    Ready?
    “No.”  I turned my attention to Amber.  “This conversation isn’t over.”
    “I imagine not,” she agreed. “I will be here when you return.”
    I focused on Firebrand again.
    “Let’s do this.”
    Here we go!
    I felt Firebrand’s contact with me deepen.  It pulled; I did my best to go with that pull, to allow it to drag me out of the stone.  The stone seemed to cling to me ever so slightly, as if it wanted me to stay.  This was little more than a faint sensation of resistance.  Strand by strand, Firebrand helped me sever my connection with the stone.  I reached down the channel of Firebrand’s psychic guidance and latched on to the mounting points within my flesh.  Together, we disconnected the thing I call my self and reconnected it to its fleshy casing.
    I moved rapidly out of one body, rang through steel and fire, and plunged into the yawning abyss of my undead flesh.
     
    I pushed myself up off my face.  There were a dozen lamps around the room, spreading illumination everywhere.  I checked my teeth; yes, all slightly pointy and a couple exceptionally so.  My fingernails were also slightly pointy and more than a little sharp, both in the point and the edge—they seemed to grow that way.  I wasn’t completely sure if that was natural or not.  Well, normal or not.  Okay, maybe expected or not…
    Boss?
    “Yeah.  I think so.”
    Welcome back.
    “Am I?”
    Yep.  You’re you.
    “How can you tell?”
    The other guy never doubted himself.  At least, not out loud.  Or not to me.  You know what I mean.
    “I guess.”
    I got to my feet with no trouble.  I wasn’t wearing armor, but layer upon layer of clothes, mostly in black and red, with some traces of purple.  All of it was silky, and the outer garments done up in gold wire and gems.  I could have blended in well in some of the fancier Renaissance courts.  Quite the dapper fellow, this dark