Peter Brett - The Skull Throne

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The Skull Throne of Krasia stands empty.
Built from the skulls of fallen generals and demon princes, it is a seat of honor and ancient, powerful magic, keeping the demon corelings at bay. From atop the throne, Ahmann Jardir was meant to conquer the known world, forging its isolated peoples into a unified army to rise up and end the demon war once and for all.
But Arlen Bales, the Warded Man, stood against this course, challenging Jardir to a duel he could not in honor refuse. Rather than risk defeat, Arlen cast them both from a precipice, leaving the world without a savior, and opening a struggle for succession that threatens to tear the Free Cities of Thesa apart.
In the south, Inevera, Jardir’s first wife, must find a way to keep their sons from killing each other and plunging their people into civil war as they strive for glory enough to make a claim on the throne.
In the north, Leesha Paper and Rojer Inn struggle to forge an alliance between the duchies of Angiers and Miln against the Krasians before it is too late.
Caught in the crossfire is the duchy of Lakton--rich and unprotected, ripe for conquest.
All the while, the corelings have been growing stronger, and without Arlen and Jardir there may be none strong enough to stop them. Only Renna Bales may know more about the fate of the missing men, but she, too, has disappeared...

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“Now!” Arlen cried, leaping at the closest mind demon even as Renna and Shanvah struck. Renna cut the head clean off her target, her father’s great hunting knife passing through its scrawny neck like Hog’s cleaver through a chicken.

Shanvah, too, went right for the kill, her speartip piercing a demon prince’s heart and twisting to tear the organ to shreds. The minds could heal most any injury with terrifying speed, but even they were not proof against a killing blow.

The mind was just turning his way as Arlen grabbed its horns, adding the force of his leap to the twist that snapped its neck. Unwilling to leave it there, lest the creature heal even that terrible wound, he put a foot on its chest and kept twisting, turning the head until scaled skin and sinewy muscle began to tear. With a roar, he ripped it free of the body.

The psychic death cries of the three minds exploded outward in a wave. Experience had shown the death of a mind would kill or drive mad every drone for a mile in every direction. Even Arlen, his mind warded, could hear it, like the air itself screamed. The remaining minds and mimic took it worse, putting claws to their heads and howling.

Arlen gave them no time to recover, pulling hard at the old magic of Anoch Sun. The power responded instantly, as if eager to avenge the city’s destruction. He drew heat and impact wards, scattering the minds and keeping them confused. The stone shook from the explosion, cracks forming in the pillars that held the roof in place. He dare not call such power again. If their goal had been to simply kill the demons, Arlen would not have hesitated to give all their lives, but they were playing a different game.

He charged one of the demons, spinning into a warded kick that would take it right in the throat. Shanvah and Renna were already moving to support him.

But the mind demon met Arlen’s eyes just before the blow landed, and the creature collapsed into mist, quickly fleeing the room and finding a path to the Core. Arlen’s kick shattered one of the stones of the wall, and more dust fell from the weakened ceiling.

The other minds did the same, fleeing without a thought. Arlen expected no less. The mind demons might show submission to one more powerful, but loyalty was an alien concept to them. They were more than happy to let others of their kind die and lose their chance to mate. Only the mind demon Jardir had trapped and its mimic bodyguard remained.

Jardir had the coreling prince on the ground, wrestling, but the demon was stronger than it appeared, and while the crown kept it from summoning help or fleeing, Jardir could not access its other powers while he maintained the trap.

The demon prince shrieked, and its mimic responded, moving to come to its aid. Arlen drew a cold ward in the air, freezing it solid, and Renna delivered a kick that snapped one of its legs right off. The limb struck the ground and shattered as she spun to deliver a killing blow.

But before the blow could land, the mimic melted into a puddle, and she overbalanced as the kick struck only air. Instantly, tentacles formed, whipping out from the pool of goo. The wards on Renna’s flesh and Shanvah’s shield prevented the blows from making contact, but the rebound against the forbidding still knocked both women from their feet.

But these were no novice fighters. Shanvah never lost control of her tumble, landing in a crouch and coming right back in. Renna was less graceful, but with her night strength she caught herself quickly and was ready before the demon could reform.

The mimic demon was not to be underestimated. Brute bodyguards of the minds, they were also captains of the coreling forces, with intelligence beyond that of simple drones. Already, Arlen could sense it calling for reinforcements. All the drones close by were dead or insane, but soon the mimic’s call would carry to those beyond the reach of the minds’ psychic screams. They could not rise inside the warded tomb, but the tunnel outside would soon be thick with scale and claw.

Arlen looked back to Jardir, locked in his struggle with the mind, and knew where his priority must lie.

“Kill the mimic!” he shouted to Renna and Shanvah. “Ware reinforcements!”

And with that, he turned from the women and launched himself into battle with the mind.

Renna and Shanvah struck as one, Renna’s knife stabbing into the reformed mimic’s chest even as Shanvah struck it in the back.

Neither blow hit home. The demon’s flesh melted away from the warded weapons as wax from a flame. Shanvah’s speartip passed within inches of Renna’s face as her thrust overbalanced.

“Guard the door!” Renna shouted. “I’ll deal with this!” The demon struck at her, but her mimic wards flared, and its huge talons only knocked her back instead of cutting her in half.

Shanvah looked at her doubtfully, but nodded, running to the doorway and readying her bow.

Renna drew a mimic ward in the air as Arlen had taught her, drawing hard on the magic of Anoch Sun to power the symbol. The demon was thrown into the far wall, and again the ceiling shook. She tried to draw others, trapping it, but the mimic’s claws sank into the wall, pulling free a great sandstone block and hurling it at her. Renna flung herself to the side, but she wasn’t fast enough and felt the stone clip her shoulder, spinning her to the ground. Her head struck the stone floor and she saw a flash of light.

It took only seconds for her to recover, Drawing magic to heal the damage and clear her senses, but the demon had already pulled another stone free, heedless of the impending collapse of the tomb, and would have crushed her if not for Shanvah. Her first arrow took it in the arm, causing it to drop the stone. The second took it in the face, the wards sending streaks of killing magic through its body. The demon shrieked before melting away. The arrow hung in the air a moment before dropping to the ground even as the coreling reformed.

It grabbed a third stone to hurl at Shanvah, but Renna threw her knife, skewing its aim. The stone exploded off the door frame, and Shanvah was able to throw up her shield in time. Before the mimic could recover, Renna was in close, punching and kicking with warded fists and feet. Some of the blows landed hard, and she felt a touch of the demon’s power leach into her, but others met only mist, and while the demon could not touch her skin, the impact of its return blows against her wards was not easily shrugged off.

A glance at Shanvah saw the woman pressed as well. She was firing rapidly down the corridor leading to the tomb entrance, and Renna could hear the shrieks of the sand demons struggling to answer the mimic’s call.

Arlen watched as Jardir and the mind demon writhed in the demon shit covering the tomb floor. Jardir had managed to get behind it, the Spear of Kaji held crosswise under its chin, pulling back its bulbous head as it hissed and gasped. Its flesh sizzled and smoked where the shaft of the spear touched it.

Seeing that Jardir held it prone, Arlen paused a moment to Know his foe before attacking. While it remained distracted, he pulled a touch of magic through the coreling prince and tried to absorb it into himself, reading for weaknesses.

But the mind was wise to the trick, and even amidst its struggle with Jardir, it caught the magic Arlen Drew and held it fast, revealing nothing.

And then the mind began to swell, soft skin toughening and growing sharp, spiny ridges. The minds were not changelings like their bodyguards, but while they might consider physical conflict beneath them, they were not helpless.

Nearly seven feet tall now, the mind demon struggled to its feet, lifting Jardir clear off the floor. It was unable to flee or call for help so long as Jardir maintained the field, but the other powers of the crown were denied him while he did, and he could not bring the point of the spear to bear lest he kill the foe and all this be for naught.

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