Read Tome of the Undergates for Free Online

,’ he hastily blurted. ‘I mean, they’re pirates, right? And Cragsmen, on top of that. They probably still believe wizards eat souls and fart thunder.’

    She stared at him.

    ‘We, uh, we don’t.’

    ‘Hmm.’ She glanced over his shoulder with a grimace, towards the shadows of the companionway. ‘And what was the purpose of that?’

    He followed her gaze and frowned. He wasn’t quite sure why she looked at the sight with disgust. To him, it was a masterpiece.

    The icicle’s shape was perfect: thick enough to drive it into the wood of the ship, sharp enough to pierce the ribcage in which it currently rested comfortably. Even as the Cragsman clung to it, hands frozen to the red-stained ice in death, Dreadaeleon couldn’t help but smile. He had expected something far messier, but the force used to hurl it through the air had been just enough.

    Of course, she probably won’t understand that. He rolled his eyes as he felt hers boring into his. Women.

    ‘Prevention,’ he replied coolly. ‘I saw him heading for the companionway, I thought he might try to harm Miron.’

    She nodded approvingly. ‘I suppose it was necessary, then, if only to protect the Lord Emissary.’

    Well done, old man, well done. The exuberance coursing through him threatened to make him explode. He fought it down to a self-confident smirk. Talking to girls is just like casting a spell. Just maintain concentration and don’t—

    ‘After all,’ he interrupted his train of thought with a laugh, ‘if he died, who would pay us?’

    ... do anything like that, idiot.

    She swung her scowl upon him like a battleaxe, all the fury and life restored to her as she clenched her teeth. She ceased to resemble a priestess at that moment, or any kind of woman, and looked instead like some horrific beast ready to rip his innards out and paint the deck with them.

    ‘This is what it’s all about, then?’ she snarled. ‘Pay? Gold? Good Gods, Dread, you impaled a man.’

    ‘That hardly seems fair,’ he replied meekly. ‘Lenk and the others have killed far more than me. Kataria even made a game out of it.’

    ‘And she’s a shict!’ Asper clenched her pendant violently. ‘Bad enough that I should have to tolerate their blasphemies without you also taking pleasure in killing.’

    ‘I wasn’t—’

    ‘Oh, shut up. You were staring at that corpse like you wanted to mount it on a wall. Would you have taken the same pride if you had killed that man instead of just burning him?’

    ‘Well . . .’ His common sense had fled him, his words came on a torrent of shamelessness. ‘I mean, if the spell had gone off as it was supposed to, I suppose I could have appreciated the artistry of it.’ He looked up with sudden terror, holding his hands out in front of him. ‘But no, no! I wouldn’t have taken pride in it! I never take pride in making more work for you!’

    ‘It’s not work to do Talanas’s will, you snivelling heathen!’ Her face screwed up in ways that he had thought possible only on gargoyles. ‘You sound like . . . like one of them , Dread!’

    ‘Who?’

    ‘Us.’

    Lenk met the boy’s whirling gaze without blinking, even as Dreadaeleon frowned.

    ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘you.’

    ‘You sound disappointed.’

    ‘Well, the comparison was rather unfavourable,’ the wizard said, shrugging. ‘Not that I’m not thrilled you’re still alive.’

    He still sounded disappointed, but Lenk made no mention of it. His eyes went over the boy’s head of stringy black hair, past Asper’s concerned glare, through the mass of wounded sailors to the object of his desire.

    The smaller escape vessel dangled seductively from its davits, displaying its oars so brazenly, its benches so invitingly. It called to him with firm, wooden logic, told him he would not survive without it. He believed it, he wanted to go to it.

    There was the modest problem of the tall priestess before him, though, arms crossed over her chest to form a wall