Twice Drowned Dragon (The Gryphonpike Chronicles Book 2) by Annie Bellet Read Free Book Online Page A

blood came off on my hand, so I gave a tiny shake of my head.
    “Saar’s balls. I think we found the dragon’s treasure,” Makha said, walking past us.
    The room at the base of the steps was lit by a glowing red chandelier made of glass like the globes in the library we’d trashed. A weapons rack holding two ornate hand-axes with half-rotted wooden shafts and a long sword decorated one wall. Along another were two large bronze and iron chests covered in bits of earth and leaf mold, the metal pocked with age and half-rotten with rust.
    “Let’s have us a look.” Drake grinned.
    “Careful! What it they are trapped?”
    “Oh, sure, dipwing. Just incase someone gets past the dragon, the army of wights, and whatever the hell that undead orc thing was?” Makha shot the pixie-goblin a condescending look.
    “Carry on, then,” Rahiel said. She folded her arms and both she and the unicorn retreated to the far side of the room.
    “Careful, love,” Azyrin murmured. He walked over to examine one of the chests, holding his amulet. “But I sense no evil in this.”
    Makha cracked open the ancient lid and gasped. I moved closer, peering around her broad shoulders as she lifted something heavy and dark from within. She shifted and the scale-mail shirt she held shone in the light. It was exquisite craftsmanship, made from a material that shimmered like glass with the midnight-blue scales overlapping perfectly. I raised an eyebrow, recognizing it. Not everyday that one found a Saliidruin maille shirt.
    “Ooh. There’s gauntlets, too, and some kind of hood.” Makha shook the shirt out as she looked into the chest. The scales rippled and gleamed but made no sound as they moved. “Needs straps and buckles replaced. Wonder if it’ll fit.” She unbuckled her belt after handing the armor to Azyrin.
    “You cannot just put on random armor you find in an ancient chest,” Rahiel sputtered. “What if it’s cursed?”
    “I feel no evil in this,” Azyrin said, turning the shirt in the red light.
    “She has to find the shiny stuff. All this chest has is some moldering silver and what might have been a couple books. Might be some gems I can salvage from it, though.” Drake looked up from where he knelt next to the second chest, a delicately wrought but highly tarnished plate in his hands.
    Makha slid into the maille with Azyrin’s help. Silvery threads extended from the sides of the armor, binding together and the whole shirt shifted slightly, adjusting to fit her broad shoulders, muscled arms, and ample chest perfectly.
    “Whoa, that’s different,” Drake said.
    “It doesn’t hurt,” Makha said. “Feels. . . perfect. Guess I don’t need straps.” She grinned and reached into the chest for the rest of the armor. The gauntlets adjusted to her hands as well. “Feels like the smoothest leather ever on the inside. Hope it’s strong.”
    Strong? Silly humans . I smiled and walked over to the weapon rack. Taking one of the axes from it, I moved back to Makha and smashed the blade down on her chest before anyone could react. The ancient steel shattered while Makha barely had to adjust her balance to take the blow.
    “Hey, elf, a little warning before you do that?” Makha glared at me. I watched as realization hit her grey eyes and her glare turned into pleasant surprise. “That does answer that question, don’t it? I got me some new armor, I think. Anyone here object?”
    “Not me,” Drake said.
    “Are you even sure you can take it off?” Rahiel asked.
    Makha caught the bottom edge of the maille where it draped her thighs and tugged upward. The silvery threads holding the sides together unknit as she rolled it upward. She let it drop back into place and reseal itself. “See? Just fine.” She hooked the maille hood onto the claps on the shoulders and tugged it up over her head. The scales seemed to grow, extending over her face until just her eyes showed.
    “Can you breathe?” Azyrin asked, worry tingeing his