Steel's Edge by Ilona Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

with a single vicious cut to the throat.
    Three bodies fell to the ground.
    Richard’s head swam. His legs gave out. He dropped to one knee, thrusting the sword into the ground and holding on to it like a crutch. What should’ve taken three cuts had required five. “Simply embarrassing,” he whispered. Two red drops splashed onto the green leaves—his blood. The brush around him was stained with it—some of it his, some of it from the slavers.
    The dog whined next to him. Richard focused and saw two brown eyes looking at him with a silent canine plea.
    â€œI’m sorry, boy. I can’t help you.”
    Richard forced himself up and staggered forward, to the boundary.
    The magic enveloped him, crushing, squeezing, as if the air itself had grown heavy and viscous. His body screamed in protest, feeling a part of its magic being stripped away. The Edge was his limit. He’d tried to enter the Broken once and nearly died. The very magic that made him good with his sword kept him anchored. It felt like he was dying now, but he would survive. He just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other.
    A step.
    Another step.
    The magic licked his skin with a serrated tongue, and the pressure vanished. He was through.
    The forest swayed around him, the trees sliding to the side. Richard stumbled forward. Cold slid along his skin. His leg muscles trembled, struggling to support his weight. Cotton clogged his ears, followed by a deep, overpowering nausea. He crashed, half-blind, through the brush.
    The swamp clearing stretched before him. The slavers lay dead, delivered by his blade to the afterlife. He dashed from hole to hole. Dead children looked back at him with opaque eyes.
    â€œSophie! Sophie!”
    â€œHere!” His niece’s voice sounded so weak.
    â€œWhere are you?” Holes filled with children slumped in the muddy water. He checked each one, sprinting back and forth in panic. A corpse. Another corpse. She was here, somewhere. He had to find her.
    The world turned black. He ripped through the darkness by sheer will and saw the edge of a dirt road running through the woods, little more than two tire tracks with a strip of grass growing between them. He wasn’t sure if it was real or a remnant of some memory.
    The blackness smothered him.
    Richard clenched his teeth and crawled toward the road. This was not the end. He wouldn’t be dying now. He had things to do.
    The rain-drenched clearing with its cypresses swam into his view.
    â€œHelp me!” Sophie called.
    He stumbled over the bodies of slavers, tracking her voice.
    â€œHelp me!”
    I’m trying, he wanted to tell her. I’m trying, sweetheart. Hold on. Wait for me.
    The darkness stomped on the back of his head. The world vanished.
    *   *   *
    CHARLOTTE surveyed the groceries laid out on the island of her kitchen. Almost done. Only the big log of ground beef was left. She sliced it with a knife into five equal portions—each one would be enough for a dinner for one with leftovers for lunch—and began wrapping them in plastic.
    The first time she’d hired an Edger to bring her groceries from the Broken, the woman had delivered a big pack of ground beef. Charlotte had frozen the whole thing as it was, in the wrapper. Unfortunately, it turned out that once you defrosted the beef in the microwave, it wasn’t safe to refreeze it again. She ended up throwing half of the meat out. Lesson learned.
    Cooking was just one of the things she had to learn in the Edge. At Ganer College, staff prepared her meals, and at her estate, she had employed a cook. Charlotte sighed at the memory. She’d never truly appreciated Colin until she had to fend for herself in the kitchen. Éléonore had given her a cookbook, and if Charlotte followed the recipes exactly, the result was passable, occasionally even tasty. Decades spent learning to mix medicines ensured that she had good technique