"What is it?" she whispered.

He looked back at her and stayed where he was, hunkering down in front of the skull. She took the last few steps toward it.

What is it?

"I don't know," she whispered.

Yes, you do.

She swallowed and reached out to touch the skull. It felt ice-cold, but instead of pulling her hand back, she pressed it against the bone, and the chill of it made her shiver, her eyes squeezing shut. As soon as they closed, she smelled ice, sharp and cold, and she heard the flap of massive wings and a deafening roar.

"A dragon," she whispered. "It's--"

"My lady," a voice said behind her.

She jumped and whirled. Tova leaped up, too, and raced in front of her, growling. Light flooded the room. Torches, carried by three figures in long, white fur cloaks, the hoods pulled up over their heads, their faces lost within.

"You know what that is then, my child?" the first figure said.

She nodded.

He paused, as if waiting for her to say the words aloud.

"A snow dragon," she said.

He pulled down his hood, and she saw a man, pale-skinned and white-haired, with tribal tattoos on his cheeks. Tattoos of dragons, done not in the imperial style, but in the intricate art of the North. And his eyes . . . He had golden eyes with slitted pupils.

Like a dragon . . .

He dropped to one knee, the other two doing the same behind him.

"My lady Ashyn," he said. "Seeker of Edgewood. Blessed of the empire and the North alike. Child of my child." He rose. "I am Edwyn of Coldwall."

"Of Coldwall? My parents were from . . ." She slowed, remembering what else he'd called her. "Child of . . . ?"

He smiled. "Of my child. Daughter of my daughter. Your family welcomes you. Your true family."

FIFTY

Moria fell from the tree, branches lashing her legs. When she passed Daigo, he let out a yowling cry and snapped at her, as if he could grab her tunic and haul her back up.

She hit the ground, one foot squarely down, the other twisting as she dropped to her knee. Pain shot through her. Something touched her hand, startling her, and she jumped, only to feel a warm hand wrap around her wrist.

"Don't move," Tyrus whispered.

She turned to see him. He lay behind her on his back. Blood soaked one sleeve. One leg of his trousers was shredded, more blood below. When the cloud cover thinned, she could see half his face wore a red mask of blood. She bit back a gasp and reached for him, but he tightened his grip on her wrist.

"Don't move."

He was propped up on his elbow, one hand gripping her, the other slowly pulling his sword. Red eyes and shadows circled them, some so close she co

uld reach out and grab them.

Grab what? A shadow?

That was all they were now. Shadows and eyes. Watching and waiting.

There were so many. Had she truly banished any?

Tags: Kelley Armstrong Age of Legends Paranormal
Source: readsnovelonline.net