The Dragon’s Eye by P.C. Darkcliff EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: P.C. Darkcliff
- Language: English
- Genre: Coming of Age Fantasy eBooks
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The Letter
It was the beginning of November, and winter clenched the northwestern
end of Thorstorm with freezing hands. The tops of pines, firs, and spruces
bent under the weight of snow, and frost clung to the rough bark of oaks,
maples, and beech trees. The sea roared below white-clad Broken Cliffs.
Deerhide Forest was silent, but the array of tracks in the deep snow showed
that not all animals had gone to sleep. Deer roved around the village of
Icecreek, looking for food, and often succumbed to a spear or an arrow to
become food themselves. Wolves stalked the deer, and the children were no
longer allowed outside the palisade.
A chilly wind accompanied Baard and his father on their way from the
woods, pressing against their backs and ruffling their hair, beards, and the
skirts of their coats. Baard had sweated while logging wood for the village’s
common oven, and the wind seemed to freeze the sweat and force it back
under his skin. The sky was clear and light blue. But the sun that struggled
through the crowns of the trees that lined Blizzardshore Road was as weak
as moonlight.
Another gust of howling wind made them shudder and huddle in their
coats. They walked fast, longing to reach Icecreek and warm up by a
blazing hearth. Baard was also eager to see his Diara, who was looking after
Mother.
Mother was still ill, but as Father had quit the bottle, they went logging
almost every day, like in the old days. When he was alone with Father in the
woods, Baard often felt as if no curse, death, or evil creatures had ever
entered his life. His head spun whenever he remembered how much had
changed.
Since a Daemorc had killed their old mare, a hired plow horse plodded
beside them, hauling the logs. Baard’s sister, Elya, was also dead, and her
death had bestowed Baard with her magical skills and helped him become a
national hero. But the loss filled him with permanent sorrow.
The roar of the sea faded as father and son walked up Western Path that
led from the cliff to the village. The wind eased, and only occasional gusts
whistled in their ears, to the crunching of snow under feet and hooves, and
to the whispering sound of the logs being dragged over the snow. The fields
resembled giant white bedsheets; the paddock was empty. Smoke rose from
an oak grove, the home of Ruah the soothsayer.
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