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Back Legendborn Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Dedication
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. THREE MONTHS LATER
  4. PART ONE ORDER
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. PART TWO DISCORD
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. PART THREE ROOTS
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. PART FOUR SPLINTER
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  67. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  68. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

He bears down on the brawl, his father’s sword in his hands.

Sel has the demon on the ground, one boot on the creature’s chest, an aether blade at their throat.

“You nearly killed my father!” Nick shouts, fury turning his voice to iron.

The demon chitters eagerly. “The boy approaches! Let him come, whelp! I—” A squelching, hissing sound from the press of Sel’s blade, and the creature is silenced.

“I have this, Nicholas.” Sel keeps his eyes on his captive. “Back off. Let me do my job.”

Nick ignores Sel’s warning and swings, his blade arcing toward the demon’s face—

With a sharp twist, the demon breaks Sel’s ankle. Shoves the Merlin aside.

Nick’s sword descends.

The demon meets it with one hand—the blade digging deep—and clenches Nick’s throat with the other.

Nick pulls at the creature’s fingers. Gurgling. Gasping.

The demon stands, snarling in a flash of triumph, lifting Nick high—then slams him into the silver stone. His body goes still.

I’m running.

I barrel into the demon just as Sel swings Nick’s sword.

Together, we send the body in one direction, and the head in another.

14

NICK, HIS FATHER, and Evan aren’t the only injured.

I stand in the corner of the Lodge’s basement infirmary and watch two second-year Pages dash back and forth between five metal tables.

Nick’s on the one closest to me. His father is next to him. Evan’s in the middle, and Victoria lies at the end. I didn’t even know that Tor had been hurt.

Her chest had been sliced open by a hound, and there’s blood splattered across her blue dress and over her pale cheeks.

Still, she’s in better shape than the Davis men. Lord Davis’s spine is broken in two places.

Nick’s skull is cracked.

I should have moved faster. Struggled harder against the uchel. Gotten to Nick before he went after the demon himself.

The infirmary is William’s domain. He strides between the tables, his hands coated in silver aether so thick it looks like mercury. The bright, citrus smell of his aether signature fills the room.

There’s a pattern. He starts with the life-threatening injuries first and spends a few minutes murmuring in a fluid, lyrical language that I don’t understand. He stands over their bodies while aether drips down onto their wounds and disappears into their skin. Then he walks away and closes his eyes, murmuring another incantation that pulls aether from the air again. It coats his fingers, and the cycle starts over.

I look down at my own hands. They haven’t stopped trembling.