Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) by Janet Lane-Walters Read Free Book Online

the door and slipped inside. For a time she sat with her back against the wood.
    Finally she rose and slipped on her boots. She ran to the hidden exit and slipped into the passage. Fear brought tears to her eyes.
    Move. She couldn’t collapse now. She pressed her hand against the wall. The solid rough surface infused her with strength. She walked through the deep darkness, reached the end and emerged from the citadel.
    The moonlight seemed as bright as the morning sunlit sky. No clouds occluded the stars. She pressed against the wall. She couldn’t return to the hareem. Reaching the tangle and hiding there was her only chance to reach safety. She dropped to her knees and began to crawl. Every few yards she halted and peered at the citadel walls, waiting to hear a shout from one of the guards. By the time she reached the bushes, the moon had sunk low and pre-dawn lit the sky. She collapsed. Her head pressed against the ground. She was so tired, but she had to continue.
    With care she threaded her way along the path through the tangle. The way seemed longer than she remembered. Her knees felt as though rocks had settled beneath the skin. Her stomach ached. Once in the clear area, she reached for one of the flasks and swallowed a sip of lukewarm water. Then she swallowed repeatedly to keep from spewing. She curled into a ball and dove into sleep.
    Shouts woke her. She heard men calling her name. The sun showed mid-morning. She crept to a spot where she could peer through the leaves. Two wizards searched the area. She swallowed. Had she left a trail?
    “We must find her,” an elderly wizard said. “Mecador will be furious.”
    “Not to mention the havoc this will bring to the council,” a second said. “With no female for a reward, the council will remain divided.”
    As the men moved around the fyrethorn bushes, she heard footsteps crushing the fallen thorns. She prayed they wouldn’t notice the hidden path to the interior. Her only hope lay in the fact few wizards would risk being poisoned by the thorns. After a long, long time the searchers left.
    When sunset arrived she ate cheese and one of the thin crisp breads. When she finished she repaired the strap on the travel pack. Though she should sleep she couldn’t chance missing her chance to flee.
    If anyone realized she was here, would they destroy the tangle to reach her? Other than herself, Arton was the only one with total immunity to the poison. A number of the wizards had endured small doses. If stabbed by a thorn they would become ill but they wouldn’t die. She prayed for a cloudy night to aid her flight.
     
    * * *
     
    Four days after they left the gathering Cregan paused to catch his breath. They had left at night and made camp near the rocky outcropping closest to the oasis. Leaving like thieves had angered him. The wizards had enough power to easily destroy both clans.
    This day he had outdistanced the others and was glad to be away from his companions. They had witnessed his failure. If he had been allowed to use his wand to stun the clansmen, he could have gathered more slaves for the traders. Arton’s interference with the burst of yellow light had ruined Cregan’s chance to win this testing. Being second to that foreign baseborn man adopted by a wizard unable to sire a son brought fury to the surface.
    The walls of the citadel drew closer. Cregan drew deep gulps of air. Once his breathing slowed, he glanced over his shoulder. Though reaching the gates first wouldn’t count in the competition, being first would boost his spirits.
    A short time later he reached the gate. When he saw one of the younglings acting as gate guard he halted in surprise. “Where are the guards and the wizards who remained?”
    The boy pointed. “Out there.”
    “Why?”
    “She’s gone.”
    “Who?”
    “The one who was to be the reward.”
    Fury settled in his chest. How was this possible? Who was her ally? “Boy, run and fetch them. Mecador will arrive soon. He will