Rise of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 2) by Jason Halstead Page A

unusual places and always offers some sort of boon. He’s even helped us out once, during our forays into Mira when we fought the Order.”
    “A shaman,” Corian muttered. “Of Saint Jarook?”
    Namitus stopped talking and tilted his head. “Why yes, he was. I take it the troll you met had an even more unusual goblin manservant with him?”
    “Thork.”
    Namitus chuckled. “I shouldn’t be surprised. There are indeed greater forces at work.”
    “What are you talking about?” Amra asked.
    “Thork is no mere shaman of the saint of fear,” the rogue explained. “Or at least we expect he’s far more than that. He shows up at the most opportune times and, though he seems to have his own agenda, it seems to mesh with ours. Did he, perchance, give you anything?”
    Corian’s eyes widened and his face paled. His hand slid to the hilt of the dagger at his side. He drew it and held it up. “He gave me this.”
    Namitus held his hand out. “May I?”
    Corian reversed the dagger and took care to keep the edge from touching him. “Be careful, it’s sharper than anything I’ve ever seen before.”
    Namitus pulled his hand back and shook his head. “I don’t need to see it. Damn that troll!”
    “I thought you said he was helpful?” Amra asked.
    Namitus sighed. “That dagger is the tooth of a dragon.”
    “He said that!” Corian cried.
    Namitus nodded. “It’s more dangerous than you can imagine. Well, a little less so now, but still, it might as well be a curse upon you.”
    “What? Why?” Corian glanced at Jillystria, who walked up beside him. Allie had ridden closer as well, leaving only Gor to ride behind. “What treachery is this? The troll saved my life after I collapsed chasing my sister’s captors. Why would he do that only to betray me?”
    “A wound made with that knife won’t heal. It has a thirst that goes back to the dragon it came from. A thirst that lasts forever. Or at least until the blade claims a life.”
    “I don’t understand,” Corian said.
    “Alto’s sister was bewitched by the Order and—”
    “Wait, you said she wasn’t?” Amra argued. “I’m so confused!”
    “Sorry.” He sighed. “You’re right, I did say that. She’s not now, but when we came here and rescued her from the dungeons of Mira, she was. Under her magical compulsion, she had that same dagger and used it to stab Patrina.”
    Allie gasped. “Is she...”
    “She lived, but it took Karthor, our healer, every spare bit of priestly magic he had to keep her thus until the dagger was used to kill Lord Shazamir—by Alto, of course. Then the magical hold on Patrina’s wound was gone and she could heal.”
    “So this blade opens a wound that will not heal?” Corian stared at it.
    “I advise you not to shave with it,” Namitus said.
    Corian snorted. “I’m an elf. I have no need of such crude behavior.”
    Neither did Namitus, but he chose to ignore the ignorant comment. Instead, he nodded towards the blade the elf held. “Take care with that. Even a nick will seep blood until it claims a life.”
    Corian returned the dagger to his holster and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. I prefer my bow anyhow.”
    Namitus nodded. “A good bowman is hard to find.”
    Rather than accept the compliment, Corian snorted. “Not among elves it isn’t.”
    “What I don’t understand is why this troll would show up and help,” Amra asked.
    Namitus shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess as to what could set a troll on such a path. He’s remarkable enough in that he rose above his grunting kin to become a shaman.”
    “No, I mean why would he choose to help Corian if he’s been helping your friends?”
    “Ah.” Namitus sighed. “That brings me back to wondering what mysterious forces are at work. Alto, for example, gained the favor of Saint Leander, Saint Jarook, and Saint Preth during his quest to defeat Sarya.”
    “That’s preposterous!” Corian snapped. “Those saints would never work