Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Margaret Rogerson
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF/ePub
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Dark Fantasy
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
- Published Date: June 04, 2019
NIGHT FELL AS death rode into the Great Library of Summershall. It arrived
within a carriage. Elisabeth stood in the courtyard and watched the horses
thunder wild-eyed through the gates, throwing froth from their mouths. High
above, the last of the sunset blazed on the Great Library’s tower windows, as if the
rooms inside had been set on fire—but the light retreated swiftly, shrinking
upward, drawing long fingers of shadow from the angels and gargoyles who
guarded the library’s rain-streaked parapets.
A gilt insignia shone upon the carriage’s side as it rattled to a halt: a crossed
quill and key, the symbol of the Collegium. Iron bars transformed the rear of the
carriage into a prison cell. Though the night was cool, sweat slicked Elisabeth’s
palms.
“Scrivener,” said the woman beside her. “Do you have your salt? Your gloves?”
Elisabeth patted the leather straps that crisscrossed her chest, feeling for the
pouches they held, the canister of salt that hung at her hip. “Yes, Director.” All
she was missing was a sword. But she wouldn’t earn that until she became a
warden, after years of training at the Collegium. Few librarians made it that far.
They either gave up, or they died.
“Good.” The Director paused. She was a remote, elegant woman with ice-pale
features and hair as red as flame. A scar ran from her left temple all the way to her
jaw, puckering her cheek and pulling one corner of her mouth permanently to the
side. Like Elisabeth, she wore leather straps over her chest, but she had on a
warden’s uniform beneath them instead of an apprentice’s robes. Lamplight
glinted off the brass buttons on her dark blue coat and shone from her polished
boots. The sword belted at her side was slender and tapered, with garnets
glittering on its pommel.
That sword was famous at Summershall. It was named Demonslayer, and the
Director had used it to battle a Malefict when she was only nineteen years old.
That was where she had gotten the scar, which was rumored to cause her
excruciating agony whenever she spoke. Elisabeth doubted the accuracy of those
rumors, but it was true that the Director chose her words carefully, and certainly
never smiled.
“Remember,” the Director went on at last, “if you hear a voice in your mind
once we reach the vault, do not listen to what it says. This is a Class Eight,
centuries old, and not to be trifled with. Since its creation, it has driven dozens of
people mad. Are you ready?”
For More Read Download This Book
For More Read Download This Book