Read A Joust of Knights (Book #16 in the Sorcerer's Ring) for Free Online Page B

EIGHT
     
     
    Thorgrin pulled one last time on the
golden rope, hands shaking, Angel on his back, sweat pouring down his face, and
he finally cleared the cliff, his knees touching down on soil, catching his
breath. He turned and looked back and saw, hundreds of feet below, straight
down the steep cliffs, the crashing ocean waves, their ship on the beach,
looking so small, and he was amazed at how far he’d climbed. He heard groans
all around him, and turned to see Reece and Selese, Elden and Indra, O’Connor
and Matus all finishing the climb, all hoisting themselves up and onto the Isle
of Light.
    Thor knelt there, muscles exhausted, and
looked up at the Isle of Light spread out before him—and his heart sank with a
fresh sense of foreboding. Before he even saw the awful sight, he could smell
the burning ash, the smell of smoke heavy in the air. He could also feel the
heat, the smoldering fires, the damage that remained from whatever creatures
had destroyed this place. The island was black, burned, destroyed, everything
that had once been so idyllic about it, that had seemed so invincible, now
turned to ash.
    Thorgrin gained his feet and wasted no
time. He began to venture out into the isle, his heart pounding as he looked
everywhere for Guwayne. As he took in the state of this place, he hated to
think of what he might find.
    “GUWAYNE!” Thorgrin shouted as he jogged
across the smoldering hills, raising both hands to his mouth.
    His voice was echoed back to him against
the rolling hills, as if to mock him. And then nothing but silence.
    There came a lonely screech from
somewhere high above, and Thor looked up to see Lycoples, still circling.
Lycoples screeched again, dove low, and flew off toward the center of the isle.
Thor sensed at once that she was leading him to his son.
    Thor broke off into a jog, the others
beside him, running through the charred wasteland, searching everywhere.
    “GUWAYNE!” he shouted again. “RAGON!”
    As Thor took in the devastation of the
blackened landscape, he felt increasingly certain that nothing could have
survived here. These rolling hills, once so lush with grass and trees, were now
but a scarred landscape. Thor wondered what sort of creatures, aside from
dragons, could wreak this sort of havoc—and more importantly, who controlled
them, who had sent them here, and why. Why was his son so important that
someone would send an army for him?
    Thor looked to the horizon, hoping for a
sign of them, but his heart sank as he saw nothing. Instead he saw only smoldering
flames littering the hills.
    He wanted to believe Guwayne had somehow
survived all this. But he did not see how. If a sorcerer as powerful as Ragon could
not stop whatever forces had been here, how could he possibly save his son?
    For the first time since he had set out
on this quest, Thor was beginning to lose all hope.
    They ran and ran, ascending and
descending hills, and as they crested a particularly large hill, suddenly
O’Connor, leading the way, pointed excitedly.
    “There!” he called out.
    O’Connor pointed to the side, to the remains
of an ancient tree, now charred, its branches gnarled. And as Thor looked
closely, he spotted, lying beneath it, motionless, a body.
    Thor felt at once that it was Ragon. And
he saw no sign of Guwayne.
    Thor, filled with dread, raced forward, and
as he reached him, collapsed on his knees at his side, scanning everywhere for Guwayne.
He hoped that perhaps he’d find Guwayne hidden in Ragon’s robes, or somewhere beside
him, or nearby, perhaps in the cleft of a rock.
    But his heart sank as he saw he was
nowhere to be found.
    Thor reached down and slowly turned over
Ragon, his robe charred black, praying he had not been killed—and as he turned
him over, he felt a glimmer of hope to see Ragon’s eyes flutter. Thor reached
down and grabbed his shoulders, still hot to the touch, and he pulled back Ragon’s
hood and was horrified to see his face charred, disfigured from the