Read The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) for Free Online

numbers, would not end well for them. Carym wished his friend and fellow adventurer were here; his battle prowess was not to be reckoned with.
    They continued down the long street for several hours, stopping periodically to listen for signs of trouble. Three times they stopped and heard muffled sounds of possible enemies close by, probably only a street or two away. Each time the foursome quickly spread as far out from each other as they could, each attempting to conceal themselves in shadows or behind an object for long moments.
    Once, they even saw the demonic visage of a trok peering around the corner of a building at the intersection a mere hundred yards behind them. The little creature’s ears twitched and it sniffed loudly as it looked around before disappearing. The foursome remained in the shadows, hidden, for almost thirty more minutes to be certain the troks had not seen them, and weren’t coming back. According to Yag, troks were notoriously impatient and would likely not wait long to ambush the group had they been spotted; Carym wondered how Yag knew so much about the diminutive but terrifying fighters and vowed to question the man about his past eventually.
    Feeling it was safe to proceed, Carym stood and led the group on. The scenery along the way was much the same as before, only it seemed as though the ostentatiousness of the buildings in this opulent city increased as they moved closer towards the center of the city. As the foursome moved along, a very unique structure appeared in the distance on the right. It was a plain structure, made of modest stone blocks. It was built like nothing else in this odd city and stuck out as much by its lack of adornment as by the opulence of its neighbors. There was no wall around this building and the front door was missing. Carym assumed that the door to this must have been made of wood in keeping with its modest appearance, for there was no evidence whatsoever of damage to the door frame to indicate it had been forcibly removed. For a moment he considered leading the group onward. It was precisely then that Carym felt the sudden urge to handle the stones in his coat pocket. Putting his left hand into the pouch with the stones, he felt an overwhelming urge to enter this building. He was a little leary of trusting these stones so implicitly, but they had not truly harmed the group so far.
    Sigils adorned the outside of the building, though there were subtle differences from those in his book that made them illegible to him. Inside he could see rows of pews separated by an aisle that led to an altar at the far end, so he knew this was a temple.
    “Carym,” said Yag quietly but urgently from the street. “This don’t look like a Blood Spire to me!”
    Gefar nodded grimly, agreeing with his captain.
    “This is a temple. The Dalcasian soldier said something about honoring the ‘Great Father,’” Carym turned to Gennevera who had moved up to the door to stand beside him. The other two were standing at the edge of the street scanning for trouble. “Isn’t Zuhr known as the Great Father among some peoples still?”
    “Indeed,” she replied. “Great Father, Great Flame, Great Lord, and many other titles.”
    “Aye, but I don’t see a Bloody Spire!” said Yag, his voice still low but harsh.
    “I have a suspicion it is well hidden, Yag. What better place to hide something from greedy treasure hunters than by placing it in the poorest looking building in the city, a building made of ordinary stone?” Carym said. “Come on, let’s go inside and see if we can find something to lead us to the spire. We can rest here and perhaps find something to help us get out of this city.” The Cklathman did his best to hide his weariness. That battle had drained his energy so deeply he felt as though he was going to drop to the ground dead at any moment. And he desperately hoped his old friend would return to the group. “If we find nothing of value, we will leave.”
    Carym