Read Valley of Embers (The Landkist Saga Book 1) for Free Online Page A

and drew, Nathen doing likewise. She nodded so slightly it could have been mistaken for a twitch, but Kole knew better. With a burst from his fingers, he lit a ball and launched it sky high with a guttering whistle, then did the same with two more in rapid succession.
    The flares punctuated the cool semi-darkness and the tiny comets streaked into the stars, Linn and Nathen following their arcing path as they trended downward. Linn let fly half a breath after each ball struck the turf and announced its presence with a flash that blinded the horned animals gathered there. Their flight tore up clods in the earth as they scattered, but Linn’s arrows caught two clean before they turned, bringing them down in a heap. The third was either lucky or damned, depending on how many legs it would need to live out the week, and Nathen cursed his aim.
    “It changed directions quickly,” Kole said, patting his arm. “The herd will look after it.”
    Nathen forced a tight smile.
    As Linn and Kole stood watch atop the rise, Nathen worked at the bodies of the fallen beasts, removing the shafts with expert precision and saying the words that needed saying. It took some time for them to drag the carcasses back to the trail, where they rested and refilled their skins in the brook. Sitting with his bare toes steaming in the water, Kole watched the last wind-blown embers turn to ash in the breeze, snuffing the orange lights from the field.
    After a spell, Kole stood, his feet drying before he had taken two steps, and helped Nathen strip the most elastic branches from the boughs overhanging the water. Linn tied the best knots, so they let her secure the poles to the litter before loading their bounty and setting off. Their progress was slow, but they reached the unfinished gates before the moon had finished its slow arc across the night sky.
    Nathen insisted on seeing both animals to the stores and bid Linn and Kole a good day. As he disappeared into the center of town—still bustling despite the recent attacks—Kole could not help but laugh.
    “What is it?”
    “Why that boy isn’t a soldier is beyond me,” Kole said. “Are we sure he isn’t Rockbled? He’s even stronger than he looks, and he looks plenty strong.”
    “People have said that about my eyes since I took up the bow,” Linn said. “But alas, not all of us can be Landkist. Besides,” she shouldered her pack, “we’re all soldiers when we need to be. Some would rather leave it at that, especially when you’ve got a heart like his.”
    Kole nodded and handed his own pack over.
    “My turn at watch,” he said, earning a reproachful glare from Linn.
    “First light is almost upon us,” she said, indicating the lake, which sparkled in the pre-dawn light. “Besides, I may not be as doting as my little sister, but you haven’t really slept in days, and, Ember or not, your mind needs rest as much as your body. If you get any warmer, you’re going to ignite, and I don’t want to be there when it happens.”
    “That bad?”
    “I can smell the ozone coming off of you from here,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It always happens when you’re stressed.”
    “Plenty of reasons to be stressed,” Kole said.
    Linn said nothing. She turned and marked a path toward her lakeside abode. Kole walked her back. Iyana was gone when they arrived, likely more exhausted than any of them as she cared for the wounded.
    Kole sat and watched the gray ash in the hearth swirl in the dying beam of moonlight coming in through the slatted window while Linn washed and changed. He liked being this close to the water, a trait that clashed with his base nature. He thought about the gentle waves as they lapped against the lichen-covered pegs beneath the house. He thought about their moonlit hunt and how the horned runner had cried as it disappeared beyond the rise, and if it really did have a herd to look after it.
    His last hazy thoughts before drifting off were of Linn’s face in the