Bloodhoney (Wyrmeweald, Book 2)
Paul Stewart, Chris Riddell
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From the creators of the Edge Chronicles comes the second installment in the fantastic tale of Wyrmeweald!
Winter is a dangerous time in the wyrmeweald. Once a magnificent wilderness, the home of the dragon-like wyrmes has become an icy wasteland. Brutal battles rage between the evil kith, intent on ravaging all that they can, and the wyrme-friendly kin. Young Micah is safe in a winter den, sheltered from the intense cold, with kin Eli and the beautiful, dangerous wryme-rider Thrace. Thrace aches to leave the den and fly through the skies on her whitewyrme, but Micah knows they are safer indoors. Meanwhile, a brutal assassin approaches, fueled by the invigorating liquor known as bloodhoney and seeking vengeance. Micah and his friends are being hunted—and nowhere in the wyrmeweald is truly safe.
see the keld crouch down again – crouch down beside the figure lying beside him. His heart missed a beat. It was Thrace. She was stretched out and fettered in the snow with ropes and stubby stakes that had been sharpened and hammered deep into the ice, and that he guessed mirrored his own. The right side of her body was badly bruised and grazed, and there looked to be blood at the fold of her ear. Beyond her was Eli, similarly gagged and bound, and with blood that had matted his hair and specked
realized, or the host risked catastrophic losses. Yet the bank of stormcloud continued. Mile after mile. Hour after torturous hour. Above them, the blurred grey sun slipped down slowly in the sky, then disappeared beneath the horizon. It seemed as though the flight through the chill opacity would never end. But then, as abruptly as it had enveloped them, so the cloud cleared. The whitewyrmes emerged from the stormclouds and entered the dark twinkling clarity of night. Behind Alsasse, Alucius
pines black against the piercing blue sky beyond. ‘Guess this marks the parting of the ways,’ said Eli gruffly. ‘There ain’t no point you going further.’ He smiled. ‘Wouldn’t want you getting lost on your return.’ Micah smiled. He knew the cragclimber was trying to make light of the moment, to make it easy on him, yet the good-natured banter jarred inside him and he bit his lower lip, horrified at the thought that he might cry. ‘I think we said all we need to say,’ Eli told him. His pale blue
ventured into the narrow tunnel that led to the equipment store deep down inside the rock. But the tunnel had proved empty and there was something about the door, thick-cobwebbed by cave spiders, that gave him the creeps. Now, Micah felt scratchy and bothered. He didn’t know what he thought of the letting, or of brother Kilian, or how to take what Cara had told him. He wasn’t sure of anything any more. That was why he wanted to talk it over with Eli, for the cragclimber was sure to have an
shelfstack, Micah rose and crept over to where Eli lay. He knelt down over the cragclimber, who had a deep gash to the side of his head. Micah held a finger to his neck, checking for a pulse. Eli opened his eyes. ‘Brother Eli, brother Micah.’ It was Kilian the prophet’s voice. Micah looked up. Kilian was standing by the entrance to the store chamber. As Micah watched, he picked his way through the splintered wood, broken pots and dead bodies. He clapped his hands and, from behind him, more