Inferno: the thrilling final novel in the Talon saga from New York Times bestselling author Julie Kagawa. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
the trunk soared into the air until it joined the canopy far overhead. Insects flitted through the branches, and only a few patches of sunlight made their way down from the blanket of leaves above us. “This isn’t the way I thought I would spend my weekend.” I took a breath, and it was like breathing the air in a steam room. “Air-conditioning is a wonderful, wonderful invention, Garret,” I told him. “How did we ever get by without it?”
Garret offered a faint smile as he handed the canteen back. He looked natural out here, in his boots and camo jacket, pale blond hair cut short. He looked like a soldier. “I thought dragons liked the heat,” he said with a glance at the guide, still whacking vegetation with Riley. I sniffed, crouching down to stuff the canteen back in the rucksack.
“Yes, well, most people think we like sitting on piles of gold in dark, dreary caves. You don’t see us doing that anymore, do you? Especially since we can track our funds from a computer, in the comfort of an air-conditioned office.” A mosquito the size of my thumb landed on my arm, looking hungry, and I slapped it away. “And maybe it’s made us soft, but I for one am glad that we’ve caught on to the conveniences of modern life. Air-conditioning and indoor plumbing beats sitting in a cave full of treasure any day.”
Garret’s voice turned serious. “Not all dragons think that apparently.”
“No.” I shivered a little as I rose and pulled the rucksack over my shoulders once more. The jungle seemed to close around us, reminding me why we were here. “I guess not.”
Riley walked back to us, breathing hard. He had tied a bandanna around his head to keep his hair back, but a few dark strands had poked out and stuck to his forehead. The white tank beneath his open, long-sleeved shirt was streaked with moisture. For the briefest of moments, in the shadows of the canopy, his eyes glimmered gold.
Warmth fluttered somewhere deep inside me, like a candle dancing in the breeze. The Sallith’tahn, the life-mate bond, telling me that Riley—or rather Cobalt—was my Draconic other half. But it was weaker now. Barely a flicker, when before it had been a rushing, surging inferno of heat and desire. I had broken the Sallith’tahn. I, as a dragon, had decided to be with someone else. To choose love over instinct. I suspected the Sallith’tahn thing would never truly go away, and I doubted Riley would ever forgive me for rejecting him but, for now at least, the war and the threat of Talon took precedence over our petty squabbles and jealousy. We had to work together to survive. Alone, we didn’t stand a chance.
“Our guide says we’re almost there,” Riley informed us, unscrewing the cap of his own canteen. “Another forty-five minutes to an hour, according to him.” He took a few quick swallows from the container, then raked a sleeve across his face. “Man, I forgot how sucky the jungle is. Good thing Wes isn’t here. He’d never stop complaining. Still have that compass, St. George?”
“Yes.” Garret frowned slightly. “Why? We have a guide.”
“Not anymore.” Riley turned to glare at the guide, who was still hacking through vegetation and deliberately not looking at us. “There’s some kind of statue marking the trail about a mile from here, and from then on, we’re on our own. He says the path keeps going, but he flat-out refuses to venture beyond that point.”
“He’s leaving?” I scowled. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“Apparently it was.” Riley replaced the cap and slung the canteen over his shoulder, his own expression disgusted. “He said he would take us as far as he could. Well, that’s as far as he’s willing to take us.”
“Why?”
“Because, in his own words, beyond the statue is the territory of a god.”
A chill crept up my back, even in the suffocating heat, and I swallowed. “Then I guess we’re on the right trail.”
“Yep.” Riley rubbed the back of his skull, looking both nervous and annoyed about being nervous. “Never did like the idea of meeting a god. Somehow, I get the feeling gods just don’t like me very much.”
“You?” Garret asked, the hint of a smile crossing his face. “With your complete disdain for authority figures? I don’t see why that would be.”
“Ha, ha, laugh now, St. George. We’ll see how funny it is when we’re all piles of dust being scattered by the wind.”
We started off again, walking single file down the narrow path, following our guide toward the territory of a god.
If possible, the jungle got even thicker, more tangled, with branches and vines clawing at us from either side of the trail. Our guide came to a sudden stop and murmured something I couldn’t understand. Ahead, sitting to one side of the tiny path, a stone statue rose out of a cluster of vines and roots, the snarling visage of some scaly, horned creature peering out at us.
Riley cocked his head at the statue. “Huh,” he remarked. “Is that supposed to be a dragon? It looks like a wild pig had a baby with an alligator.”
I shook my head at him. “Can you be any more irreverent? I haven’t been struck by lightning on this trip yet.”
The guide turned, his dark face solemn in the shadows of the undergrowth. “This is as far as I go,” he said. “From this point on, you only have to follow the path. I will wait here until your business is complete.”
Riley frowned. “I thought you said you served this master or god or whatever you call him.”
“I do. But I am simply his voice outside of the jungle. Only those who have been invited can step into his territory unharmed. Therefore, I will wait for you here. If you do not return by sunset, I will know you are not coming back. Now, go.” He nodded down the trail. “My master is not a patient god. It would be unwise to incur his wrath.”
We went, slipping deeper into the jungle, venturing into the unknown. Into the territory of a god.
Almost immediately, I knew something was wrong. My dragon instincts stirred, edgy and restless, though I couldn’t see anything unusual. But I could feel eyes on me. I could sense something watching us, stalking us down the trail, keeping just out of sight.
Garret moved closer, walking by my side, even down the narrow path. His eyes were hard as he murmured, “Something is following us.”
“Yeah,” I whispered back. My hand twitched, wanting to reach for the Glock hidden beneath my shirt, but I didn’t want to give away that we knew we were being stalked. “Should we tell Riley?”
“He knows,” Garret replied, keeping his gaze straight ahead. His posture was calm, but I could sense the tension in him, ready to explode into action. “Stay alert. Be ready to move when it happens.”
As he said this, we entered a clearing, and figures melted out of the undergrowth. Tall, slender, with only a strip of cloth tied around their waists, they moved like ghosts, making virtually no noise as they stepped forward. Before we could say anything, they had surrounded us, and a dozen bone-tipped spears were leveled at our hearts.
Two weeks earlier
I stood in Gabriel Martin’s office, watching as the lieutenant walked into the room with a slight limp. He shuffled around the desk, then sat down with a grimace and eyed me across the wood. I stood calmly at attention, mostly out of habit, until he waved me into a seat.
“Sebastian,” he greeted as I settled into the chair. “You’ve come from the infirmary, yes? How is St. Anthony?”
“The same, sir,” I replied. Tristan St. Anthony still lay in a coma, unmoving and unresponsive, much as he had the past two days. The fact that he was still alive at all was either a testament to his hardheadedness or his extremely good luck, for many of his severely wounded brothers had not survived that first night.
“Stubborn bastard. He would have to make