Free Raging Sea and Trembling Earth: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Two (Soul Force Saga Book 2) by James Wisher

man Damien thought it might be a combination of both.
    “Why risk it? This trip, hunting a dragon, my master’s wrath. What’s so awful in the Old Empire that you would make such a gigantic gamble?”
    “Awful? On the contrary, things couldn’t be better. The guild’s business is doubling every five years. We’re rolling in gold.”
    Damien just stared, not understanding. “And?”
    “And what we’re not rolling in is whales. We’ve nearly hunted the safe areas clean. If we want to continue working we need to hunt out in the deep water where the big pods live.”
    “And the whales aren’t the only big thing that lives in the deep ocean.”
    “Yes, and the dragon doesn’t take kindly to us hunting in its territory. We’ve sent three flotillas out and only one came back with oil. The others vanished without a trace. The guild lost five hundred men combined on those ships. We can’t convince new crews to sign up unless we guarantee only shallow water hunting.”
    “Right. You eliminate the Leviathan and a whole ocean opens up to you.”
    “Exactly. This is our way of life. If we can’t find new hunting grounds we lose everything. I’ve staked it all on keeping our lifestyle going.”
    “Including your life?”
    “Including my life.”

Chapter 20
    C onnor slammed the useless history book on the hard stone table. He’d been reading book after book for a week and had nothing to show for it beyond an intimate knowledge of the functioning of the western province’s economy. Why had anyone bothered to put such useless tomes in a hidden room? Unless a thief was suffering from insomnia he wouldn’t have any interest in them. No one would have any interest in them beyond a governor or other administrator.
    Wait!
    An administrator. Where was it? Connor flung aside several books until he found the one he sought. He rifled through page after page of lists until he found it, a list of high-value slaves sent to the palace. He scanned the columns of names and numbers until he reached a note at the end. Included with this shipment: Three artifacts of unknown providence for storage in the palace vault.
    The palace vault. If the artifact he sought was anywhere it would be in the vault. Connor collected his amulet from the niche in the wall. The hidden compartment slid shut, hiding the mirror away for however many hundreds of years it would take for another to find it.
    Now that he had a destination Connor was eager to move on. He slipped the amulet around his neck and rushed up the stairs. His power had recovered, thank the Horned One. Some enchantment woven into the stone shielded the interior of the pyramid from the energy-draining effect outside.
    He retraced his steps back to the exit, passing the snarling, still-trapped guardian as he went. The demon thrashed when he got close, but couldn’t escape the binding. Connor powered up his shield and stepped out into the desolate wasteland. Dry, acrid air parched his throat. Above, a dim spot of light showed where the sun struggled to penetrate the dismal clouds. A small winged silhouette passed in front of the light.
    Connor frowned and turned back to reseal the pyramid. No bird would fly into the haunted lands. Animals had sense enough to avoid the unnatural place. If it wasn’t a bird—
    A huge approaching power drew his gaze up in time to spot a black-scaled demon plunging toward the ground. Bat wings snapped open at the last second, flapped twice, and the beast settled light as a feather ten feet from Connor. Jagged horns jutted up from a head covered in bone spurs. Twin sanguine flames burned in deep-set sockets and a thick, reptilian tail thrashed behind it.
    Connor tensed, ready to lash out. This monster easily overmatched the one he’d bound inside. If it came to a fight he wasn’t certain he’d win. That the demon didn’t attack at once argued a peaceful resolution remained possible. Unlikely, but possible.
    “You serve the Horned One,” the demon