Read Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles for Free Online Page A

than one hundred thousand within its walls.
    The eagle turned northward, soaring over the eastern border of Java and eventually over Avici itself. To avoid Invictus spotting them, the eagle flew higher than a dracool, but even from this great height Torg could recognize the immense stone city and also the tower of Uccheda, which gleamed like a golden spear. With sadness, he saw that the army of Invictus—more than two hundred thousand strong and five leagues from head to tail—had already begun its plodding march down Iddhi-Pada. Torg guessed it would take nearly three weeks for the entire host to journey from Avici to Nissaya.
    The eagle soared westward, passing over Lake Ti-ratana and then the snow-covered peaks of Mahaggata before landing on a frozen summit as desolate as Asubha. Crimson smoke drifted from the maw of a cave. Torg knew, without being told, that Bhayatupa lurked within.
    They continued on, and for a brief moment a raven accompanied them, squawking and fluttering, but it was unable to match their speed. It dove away and vanished.
    Soon they returned to the waterfall, but before landing, the eagle made one last sweep over Duccarita, which lay just a few leagues to the west. Three sides of natural granite bulwarks a thousand cubits tall encased the City of Thieves. The eagle landed on top of one of the walls.
    Torg climbed off the eagle’s back and knelt to watch the activity far below. A new batch of slaves had arrived from the west, carried over the ocean by sea-masters who served the pirates. Odd-looking, pink-skinned creatures were being forced to hobble down into roofless pens that offered little protection from the elements.
    A familiar voice startled Torg.
    “There is help for you there.”
    He turned slowly, and what he saw did not surprise him. The eagle had transformed into Jord, whose long white hair swirled in the winds that swept along the battlement of the granite bulwark. She looked beautiful in a white gown conceived of magic.
    “Who are you, really?” he said. “ What are you, really?”
    “Have you not already surmised, Torgon?” she replied, her expression momentarily mischievous. But then she grew serious. “I have traveled far and wide. Not long ago, I even visited the snow giants, of whom you are familiar. But as to who or what I am, I am best described—in your comprehension—as a watcher, though some call me Faerie.”
    “Why do you watch? And for whom?”
    “I am not permitted to elaborate. It must suffice to say that the ascendance of Invictus has raised concerns among my kind.”
    “If Invictus worries you so much, why don’t you and your kind destroy him?”
    “I cannot. We cannot  . . . that’s why we’re concerned.”
    “If he’s too great for you, he’s too great for me.”
    “Do not underestimate yourself, Torgon,” Jord said, and then to his surprise, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I  . . . we  . . . surpass you in some ways. But our ability to destroy might not be as great.”
    “Do I take that as a compliment?”
    “You are admired  . . . in high circles. You can take that as a compliment.”
    Torg smiled and then looked down at Duccarita, pointing a finger toward the pink-skinned slaves. “They can help? Tell me how.”
    “The slaves are not as weak as they appear. But there is an evil within the city that holds great sway over them, rendering them impotent. Eliminate that evil, and you will have a powerful army at your disposal—with a general already in place.”
    “A general?” Torg said, but when he turned back to Jord, the eagle had reappeared and again beckoned him to climb onto its back.
    At dusk, they landed at the waterfall just in time to witness a commotion. In addition to the eagle that had remained to guard Torg’s companions, six others were perched in various places near the overhang. Ugga and Bard—their hair, beards, and clothes dripping wet—stood outside the rock shelter and eyed the birds