Free Guardians (Chosen Trilogy Book 2) by David Leadbeater Page A

genius, said, “We’ve learned a little more about the demons and their relation to these so-called artefacts. They are indeed drawn to each other, simply because each artefact belongs to or is a part of each demon. It’s a part of their makeup. A clever idea by the one that dreamed it up. They simply . . . attract.”
    “All right ,” Cheyne said. “So start spelling the text itself, and we might get a fix on their whereabouts. By the Sacred Broomstick, we sure need to catch a break somewhere in this case.”
    Giles nodded. “By God too. We do.”
    Ceriden’s eyebrows rose. “By Beckham’s Sacred Boot. We do.”
    Belinda joined the action. “ And by my trusty pink vi—”
    I interrupted fast. “ How long will that take?”
    Cheyne unsuccessfully tried to crinkle her nose. “It requires a fine concoction of alchemy and ancient magic. I cannot say. Hours? A day?”
    I felt a deep anxiety twist queasily through the pit of my stomach. “We don’t have that long.”

TEN
     
     
    Ken drifted to the back of the little group, watching Felic ia as she ranged ahead and sought out a safe trail for the rest of them to follow. The wolf had barely spoken to him since their little encounter back at the house, and he sensed an awful lot of reservation and a touch of regret there. It pained him. A pleasant feeling had risen inside him that he’d never felt before. He actually felt like sticking alongside Felicia, maybe trying out a relationship. And, damn, he knew how ridiculous that sounded.
    She was a wolf. Born to be wild. Mate to freedom and to free-running. Nothing alive could hope to restrain her. He was a fool. Born to be a jackass.
    The vampires kept on giving him odd looks. Maybe they knew about his recent dalliance. Of course, he didn’t care. But , the looks Mai the vampire was giving him stirred more than just feelings. Twelve hours after feeling a sudden attachment to the wolf he was wondering if they might not be severed in favor of the vampire.
    But no. The vamps were merciless and heartless, cold. Felicia was comforting and warm and pretty; she cared. A petite Joss Stone. She deserved him. Or did he deserve her? Whatever, he thought. They were meant to be.
    At length, they crawled down an ancient spiraling walkway, a cleft between cliff faces, and found themselves treading the deadly byroads of the fifth circle of hell. Ken noticed an instant difference. Even the air down here tasted of desperation, of something tainted and bad. Every time he put his foot down the ground puffed out little bursts of what he imagined was dusty poison. Rows of empty crosses littered the roadside, the hills and the mountains. Ancient manacles clanked against the wood, the only evidence that once, millennia ago, they had seen use.
    “You mentioned a grand bazaar?” Eliza half-turned toward Lilith. “I see and sense no signs of life around here.”
    “ No. It is near the eternal grand staircase that dissects all the levels. We will have to travel there first.”
    They tramped on, the mood only darkenin g the further they went. Depravity lay all around them. Rotted gallows. Tall, deadly guillotines with shiny blades still intact. Graveyards with endless rows of marker stones, all covered in slime and black blood. This vision of hell was corrupt in the extreme. Torture devices stood arrayed upon the hillsides, standing stark against the pale light behind them, no doubt even now tended to on a daily basis by some degenerate watchman. Wooden stakes were everywhere, their bases piled high with short sticks as if waiting for the next burning.
    The group threaded through them, sometimes brushing against the various devices and shivering with distaste. As they walked it became darker, the light fading to a thin, pale glow. Felicia finally came back to Ken, her lips curled with revulsion.
    “Hate this place. It stinks. It breeds evil. It crawls. ”
    “I truly do know what you mean.”
    “There’s no freedom here. No place to run.