MISTS OF ELYSIUM (THE CRYSTAL SERPENT #3) BY JESSICA GRIFFIN – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Jessica Griffin
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
JASMIN – THE CONFIDANTE
The airship docks, and I squint my eyes against the bright sunlight,
curious about who the visitor might be. I’ll never get used to the
blinding sunlight of the floating cities. It makes the white sails of the
ship shimmer like mother of pearl in the pale lavender sky. Diaphonus has
ordered me to escort him to the docks, and I gladly accept. Anything
beyond the walls of the Citadel of the First Light and his private chambers
is exciting, and I so rarely get to see it.
The airship halts with a final shudder, the wind whispering in its
sails, its rigging screeching, and the magic keeping it afloat humming. The
wide gangway lands with a thud on the marble pavement, and I peek behind
Diaphonus’ broad back, straining my eyes to catch sight of the visitor.
As Diaphonus strides forward, his shoulders square up with
determination, and I can sense the tension radiating from his posture. It’s
clear that he’s on high alert. The other elven lords accompanying him
mirror his stance, their bodies taut with anticipation.
“Stay close to me, don’t talk,” the priest murmurs in my direction,
and I nod. There are days when all I want to do is obey and please him—
him and the others. These days, words are meaningless, just breath wasted
when it can be used for other, far more delightful activities.
Today is no such day, and I can remember my name and how I got
here. I don’t like these days, as they make me think that something isn’t
right, that I don’t belong here, that all of Diaphonus’sweet promises are lies
to keep me around. But for what purpose? I suspect it has something to do
with Celeste, but when I press my thoughts harder for answers, my mind
takes another direction, as if someone switches the rails of the train of
thought in my head.
Silence and anticipation roll over the pier, and even the sacred white
cranes seem to hang mid-flight. Sparks appear around the fists of lord
Nightingale, Diaphonus’ second, and he buries his hands deep into the
pockets of his black tunic. Whoever the visitor is, they certainly make
everyone uneasy.
Heavy, non-human steps shake the gangway, and a smooth
machinery sound that is oddly familiar startles me. I crane my neck so hard
that it hurts, finding red glowing eyes set in a heavy bronze head as daggersharp metal claws scratch the smooth pavement.
I vaguely remember the mechanical dog the size of a car. It belongs
to…
I frown, struggling to remember. My mind has been such a mess
lately.
Then comes a broad warrior frame, long white hair flying in the
wind, black and gold armor, eyes glittering coldly like gems…
Cyrell. That’s his name. The leader of the rogue dark elves living in
the City of the Dead in Chicago’s Underworld. Celeste’s blood-bound. Why
is he here?
Cyrell hesitates for a second before stepping on high elves’ land. His
gaze darts past the lords and priests who came to greet him and locks with
mine.
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