“They were tarrying rather than charging, and Isk and Gar could hear why. The thunder of boots was growing louder down the tower stair, and Lyrose guards were rushing along the balcony Isk and Gar had just traversed, too. Dark-armored and eager, they seemed to have spears in plenty, but no bows. Thank the Falcon for small glorking favors. Gar bent, plucked up the still-hot sword from the blackened bones of the guard slain by the wizard's skull, and ran to the tower door juggling it and s...wearing as it scorched his fingers, the charred remnants of its scabbard falling away in his wake. A spear hissed down at him, and then another—but Orthaunt's grinning skull saw those as attacks, and lashed out with more green-gold fire. Two guards shrieked up on the balcony, and one of them toppled forward over the rail, to hang motionless, head-downwards, as he cooked. No more spears were thrown. Aside from ducking low and running as far around the curve of the tower wall as he could get from the balcony, Gar paid no heed to any of this.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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