Free EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy by Terah Edun, Anna Zaires, Dima Zales, Lindsay Buroker, C. Greenwood, Jeff Gunzel, Daniel Arenson, Megg Jensen, Joseph Lallo, Annie Bellet, Edward W. Robertson, Mande Matthews, K. J. Colt, Brian D. Anderson, David Adams Page A

in front of his face. She was trying to break his attention away from his morbid fascination with the glistening red blood on his fingertips. It worked.
    He looked up at her with snot running down his lips and tears dripping down his cheeks.
    “What have you done to me?” he shouted in a voice three times louder than necessary.
    She took out a knife and held it in front of his face as a warning.
    “Shout again,” she mouthed slowly, “and I’ll knife you.”
    He trembled and hate sparked on his face. But he was silent.
    Ezekiel said, “I’ve got an idea.”
    She didn’t turn from her prisoner. Even deaf and bleeding, she didn’t trust him.
    “What?”
    He reached into his red satchel and brought up some parchment, a quill, and some ink. “Let him write it out.”
    “Not a bad idea.”
    “Here,” he said, hastily putting the materials down and grabbing a loose piece of wood that rested on the wall. Carefully he placed the makeshift table in the fat man’s lap and put the paper, quill, and ink within reach of his hands.
    “Start talking,” mouthed Sara at the glaring man.
    He didn’t have much of a choice. He did what she said.
    He began to write out why he was there.
    “ We came for the Tirsaman statue. ”
    “Why?” said Sara.
    “Who are you?” wondered Ezekiel.
    The man flickered indignant eyes up at Ezekiel as he wrote, “ Who am I? The great Ezekiel Crane notices no one else. ”
    Sara looked over at Ezekiel quizzically. “Sounds like you have a fan.”
    Flustered, Ezekiel opened and closed his mouth like a fish while he watched the fat man scribble faster.
    “ I am Ras Stold, purveyor of fine goods. ”
    “Thief and charlatan,” murmured Sara.
    He glared at her. “ Rare items acquirer for the wealthy. ”
    “Let’s add black market racketeer to that description,” she said in amusement.
    He began to scribble again. “ Your employer is no better than me. ”
    “I don’t contest that, but I doubt Cormar is stupid enough to break into an opponent’s warehouse and get caught doing it.”
    He had nothing to say to that.
    “Let’s get back to the point,” Ezekiel said hastily before they could continue their word war. “You know me how ?”
    “ You are the premier treasure hunter on this side of the empire ,” scribbled the man. “ I have heard of your exploits. ”
    “Treasure hunter?” scoffed Sara as she looked at a blushing Ezekiel.
    “That was a long time ago,” said Ezekiel, pleased. “But do go on.”
    Sara rolled her eyes.
    “ I was here to acquire the statue and give it to a buyer ,” he wrote.
    “Which buyer?” Sara demanded.
    Before he could write out the details, the door opened and in walked a stranger. She didn’t recognize the man. He was big and brawny, with a shaven head and tattoos of the islands on his cheeks.
    Sara turned and glared before Wainwright walked in right behind the bigger man.
    “We’re here for him,” he said with a sniff.
    “We were just getting somewhere with him,” complained Ezekiel.
    Too late Sara elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
    “Really?” said Wainwright. “I don’t believe that’s part of your job description. Your job is to catalog the artifacts and keep them safe. Was that not clear?”
    Ezekiel paled.
    “Crystal clear,” replied Sara.
    Wainwright gave her a sharp look but refrained from comment. To the muscle man behind him, he snapped, “Get the thief and let’s go.”
    His companion began walking forward and Ras began screeching and scribbling.
    When the man reached him he gave up trying to get words on the parchment, thrust the makeshift desk off of his lap, and tried to run. “Tried” being the operative word. Sara hadn’t cut the ropes binding his legs to the chair, just the ones along his upper body. He fell to the floor with a nasty whump and began to crawl away like a slug, screeching all the while. It took no time before the thug Wainwright had brought with him grew tired of the sound and clubbed him