Warrior Mage (Book 1) by Lindsay Buroker Read Free Book Online Page B

“What Turgonians is he talking about?” she whispered.
    “A handful of them escaped before you came to work here. Prince Zirabo and I were... knocked out and beaten up during their escape.”
    “Prince Zirabo? The Great Chief’s son? The one who’s a diplomat?”
    “Yes. He came for a visit.” They rounded a curve, and the doors to the living quarters came into view, so he did not expound on the details.
    “At the same time as some prisoners escaped?”
    “Yes. I looked the other way for it because one had been a sword tutor to me, if an unwilling one.”
    Yanko glanced through an open doorway, wincing when he spotted another dead overseer. This one had died in his bed, a pile of rock half-burying him.
    They had to scramble across more rock debris in the corridor, and the draft had turned into a full-fledged breeze. In one spot, the tunnel was nearly impassible with more than ten feet of ceiling collapsed, leaving a hole open to a starry sky above. If they had wanted to simply escape, that could be a way out, but he had to reach Mishnal. They were close.
    “That doesn’t seem like you,” Lakeo said, apparently not ready to drop the topic. “Was that the honorable thing to do?” She had mocked him more than once about his determination to help his family, to become an honorable member of Nurian society, and he didn’t miss the emphasis she put on the word.
    “At the time, I thought it was. And if I ever run into that Turgonian again, he said he owes me a favor.”
    “Great, next time you’re in the empire, I’m sure that’ll come in handy.”
    “It’s a republic now.”
    Lakeo gave him a scathing who-cares look. He did not respond. He sensed more people in the corridor ahead, and he slowed down, holding up a hand. Voices chattered. They didn’t sound alarmed; they sounded like they knew they had already won and that there was nothing to worry about.
    Yanko’s fists tightened on the hilts of his swords. He would give them something to worry about.
    The corridor curved again, and he paused to peer around the bend. At the far end, the lift shaft was visible, as was an enormous hole in the ceiling, at least twenty feet across. Ladders had been placed on either side of the entry chamber, and men were carrying loot out on their shoulders. Other men, heavily armed men, stood in a group, talking and pointing downward, toward the lower levels of the mine. Wondering if it was worth trying to go down there and loot further? Quiet fury filled Yanko at the thought of these people casually contemplating killing and looting this place. Even if the mines weren’t exactly a home to him, they were his family’s responsibility. For the first time, he felt that meant they were his responsibility too.
    And they were Mishnal’s responsibility. The door to his quarters and office stood open ten feet ahead of Yanko. Unfortunately, it was in full view of those men. This portion of the tunnel lay clear, with no rubble piles to hide behind, so he could not advance without being spotted.
    “We lost our posse,” Lakeo whispered in his ear.
    The miners had disappeared. Probably up that hole. Yanko shrugged. He couldn’t have depended on them, anyway. He would have to sneak up to his uncle’s room on his own. He concentrated on the chamber around the invaders, trying to sense more than his eyes showed him, such as the way some of the crumbled earth around the edges above hung precariously. A tall cactus leaned toward the hole, its root system half destroyed.
    Yanko pointed at his uncle’s door and made a get-ready gesture. Lakeo nodded.
    With a silent apology to the cactus, he used his power to sever a few more of its roots. It toppled twenty feet, crashing to the ground a couple of meters from the men. They all spun toward it, several jumping in surprise. Knowing they would recover quickly, Yanko ran for his uncle’s door, careful not to make a noise.
    He slipped inside before the men turned back around—and almost