Page 66 of Marked By the Dark Lord
“Why not?” he mused, his hand gripping mine tightly.
I squeezed back, making sure he knew I was there. That I would support him. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through his mind. How was he staying so composed?
“Again, I do not have firm information, Lord Rokk,” Arresh said, spreading his hands out, palms upward. “But the rumor is about ‘consolidation.’ Perhaps they fear a challenger?”
I couldn’t have been the only one who detected an undercurrent to Arresh’s words.
“A challenger? To whom? Who is ruling the House now?” Korr’ok did his best to sound confused.
I wondered if Arresh was buying it.
“Word on the street is that it was the youngest brother who orchestrated it all,” Arresh said, smiling broadly. “Maybe he’s afraid he didn’t get the rest of the family? Perhaps the rumors are wrong, and someone survived?”
“Perhaps,” Korr’ok said, sounding thoughtful. “Thank you for the information.”
“You are welcome. Please, what else can I, humble merchant, tell you about the state of Faerie?”
“Nothing,” Korr’ok said. “We’re done here.”
“There must be more I can do to provide service to one such as you, Lord Rokk,” Arresh supplicated.
I stared at the merchant. There was something—
“He’s stalling,” I said, just as Korr’ok jerked his head around.
“Get down!” he shouted, throwing me to the floor as something sailed past our heads.
A second later, Arresh’s stall exploded.
Chapter Thirty-One
Korr’ok
The explosion threw us sideways, through the side of a canvas tent. I bounced once before catching myself in a crouch and sliding sideways across the sandy ground, my feet and fists leaving trails behind me.
“Mila!” I barked, looking around wildly for her as chaos reigned outside the tent following the explosion.
Another cylinder came sailing in through an opening, trailing red smoke. I snarled, gathered it in one hand, and spun, hurling it back the way it had come in a single smooth motion.
The canister exploded, the shockwave rippling against the canvas sidewalls of the huge, mostly empty tent I’d landed in.
“Mila!” I shouted, scouring the tent as I moved toward the entrance. Only a handful of tables had been set up so far, though many more were stacked flat behind the upright ones. Beside them were crumpled boxes stacked higher than my head, full of garments and reams of material.
As I passed the boxes, they moved. I froze, red blades shooting up from both forearms as I prepared to defend myself.
“Show yourself!” I barked.
A groan filtered out from deep within the stacks of boxes.
“Mila?” I asked, blades disappearing as I tossed boxes aside to reveal her battered form.
“What the hell happened?” she asked, getting to her feet. The boxes might have actually softened the blow of the explosion.
“Magic grenades,” I grunted, pulling her close and drawing strength from the feel of her body pressed next to mine. All that time, I’d thought that it was her strange magic that intrigued me, pulled to me, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it washer…
“From whom?”
There was motion at the doors of the tent.
