Free Dragonsbane (Book 3) by Shae Ford

been right to pity Baird. She must’ve been able to sense the pain beneath his madness, the darkness behind his lids. Kael should’ve listened to her.
    Instead, he’d tortured a blind man for no reason. “Baird, I’m so —”
    “Do you want to hear a story?” Baird was leaning against the wall, smiling as if nothing had ever happened.
    Kael was too relieved to argue. “Yes.”
    “Very well, then. I’ll do a bit of barding.” Baird’s weathered fingers gripped the knobs of his knees. He was quiet for such a long moment that Kael thought he might’ve fallen asleep. Then quite suddenly, he began:
    “Long ago, in an age when the earth was young and the first grains of time had only just slipped through the glass, two lands were born to Fate. The first rose from the sea in the shadow of the setting sun, and so she called them the Westlands. It was a dark place, a quiet place. Fate cast her die and the symbols for power, greed, and war landed upon its shores. Kings fought against Kings. Mages rent the land with their spells. Men cried out to Fate, and she answered. There was always much to cast for in the Westlands.”
    Kael had gone back to his reading at the first mention of Fate, but the story slowly drew him in. The words came alive on Baird’s tongue. He closed his eyes and images passed before him — blooming out of the dark in bursts of color and sound.
    The battered shores of the Westlands rose in his mind. Blood burned his face as he joined the Kings in battle; he could hear the mighty roar of the earth as it crumbled beneath the mages’ spells. All around him the gaunt faces of men turned skyward. He listened to the thunder as it split the clouds — no, not thunder. It was the sound of Fate’s die rolling across her great table.
    His heart slowed its beating and his lungs held their breath. His ears tuned to each bounce and roll. Sweat drenched his brow as he begged for the die to land in his favor …
    It’s only a story .
    Kael’s eyes snapped open. He ground his palms against his head and tried to focus on the wall in front of him. It was only a story. He wasn’t going to let himself get pulled back in …
    His eyes shut in the middle of this thought and Baird’s voice drowned his ears: “The second land born to Fate was as fair as his brother was fierce. Strength, wisdom, and order fell here — a strange cast of the die. They made the land grow thick and gave life to the trees. White rivers burst from the rocks, their waters swift and chilled. Great storms rose from the depths of the northern seas and lashed the earth with their fury. There were no wars, no mages or Kings. The greatest danger was the land, itself. And so Fate called them the Wildlands.
    “For all their beauty, the Wildlands stood empty. So Fate fashioned creatures to live within them. She gave them hooves and wings, teeth and claws — they were sure-footed and strong. There were creatures that could reach the highest peak and the lowest depths of the sea. They would never conquer the land, but live with it. Of this, Fate was determined.
    “But the wars in the Westlands grew more fierce. Powerful mages drove mankind away and kept them pressed against the desolate shores. The Kings began to try to cross the seas, looking for a new land to settle — and Fate knew it would be only a matter of time before the die landed in their favor. So she traveled deep into her brother’s realm in search of guardians to defend the Wildlands.
    “Death, who loves to bargain, gave her fourteen souls in exchange for this: once each year, Fate must turn her face from the Wildlands and allow Death to rule. It’s a bargain they’ve kept to this very day.”
    “Who were the fourteen souls?” Kael said. He knew full well which day Fate turned her face from the earth, but he hadn’t heard anything about the souls. And he didn’t want Baird to skip over it.
    Baird’s head rose from his chest slowly, as if he woke from a deep sleep. “I’m