By Jo Clayton
Read or Download A Gathering of Stones (Drinker of Souls Book 3) PDF
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Extra resources for A Gathering of Stones (Drinker of Souls Book 3)
I expected to see you before this. Well, busy busy, I suppose, setting the world right. She’d gotten very fond of the man and was a little hurt because he hadn’t come. Watersong filtered through the trees; she went over a hump on the mountain’s flank and looked down into an ancient cut at a stream leaping along a series of steps, swirling about black and mossy boulders. The path contin ued along the rim of the ravine, crossed over it on an elegant wooden bridge, each timber handhewn and hand-polished and fitted together with wooden pegs and lashings of thin tough rope.
He was frightened and awkward, but already he’d learned to keep silence and obey his handlers. Blind unreasoning rage shook Maksim, rattled in his throat. Without warning he was that boy on the Block; all the intervening years were wiped away, his control was wiped away; another instant and he might have destroyed half of Kukurul in his fury before he was himself destroyed by the forces that guarded the city. A short sharp pain stabbed through the haze, came again and again; Jastouk had read him and reacted without thought or hesitation.
He was a massive Henerman from Hraney, a half-mythical country supposed to be somewhere in the far west. His skin was pale mahogany, hard and hairless, polished to a high gleam; he wore his coarse black hair in twin plaits that hung beside his highnosed face; he had a taste for sarcasm and sudden violence that made folk walk tip-a-toe around him. Would-be clients tolerated his insolence; they had to if they wanted to arrange a liaison with Jastouk. Maksim stared at him until he backed off a few steps.