The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

many days? His luck had to be wearing thin.
    He ducked under branches and leapt over roots, sliding on the slick layers of fallen and rotting leaves. Twigs clawed at his face and bark tore at his hands as he made an effort to keep his footing. His heart beat wildly in his ears. The trees blurred together. His scraped flesh stung, and he wondered if he was leaving a trail of blood. But his brain and lungs screamed for air he had no time to give them, and any thought but staying ahead of the Huntsmen—staying alive—was fleeting. He couldn’t let them take him. Of all the things he’d wished in his grandpa’s stories to be true, the Huntsmen and their Institute were not among them.
    He careened into a clearing, but his sprint across halted. His foot tangled on a vine in the overgrown grass. He pitched forward.
    The knobby branches of a bush connected with his chest and throat as he hit the ground. He yelped and rolled to his side, clutching the impact points, his eyes welling, his rattling gulps of air just short of futile.
    A shadow moved over him.
    He stopped trying to breathe and blinked, bringing the face into focus with dread in his heart. He hadn’t even heard them behind him.
    An almond-colored face, piercing sapphire eyes, white teeth set in a snarl.
    “You. Raver ,” Ariana growled. “What were you thinking?”
    Hunter’s mind reeled. “I—”
    “ Why did you approach them?”
    “I—” he forced the words out in a wheeze. “I was trying to—” speaking was painful— “escape.”
    Her eyes, a tumultuous swirl of blue-grey, mirrored the sky above her. “Who are you?”
    Hunter coughed and caught some semblance of breath, rolling onto his back. “I told you. My name is Hunter Woodworth.” The knobby bush dug into his side.
    “Are you sure it isn’t Prince Fyrenn?”
    “Yeah. Absolutely.” By her face, he wasn’t sure she believed him. But he definitely wasn’t a prince.
    “Then why would you approach Huntsmen like that? Do you have a death wish?”
    He winced. “I wasn’t thinking.” His breath wheezed as he inhaled.
    “That much is obvious,” came Tehya’s voice from somewhere behind Ariana.
    “He was burning my stuff,” he petitioned, seeking her out, unable to spot her from his position.
    Ariana shook her head, but the stormy expression softened. Slightly. She looked over his shoulder, then back at him. “You making sure the rest’ll never take a flame?”
    Hunter craned his neck to see the documents scattered on the wet grass, the inked letters distorting.
    Without regard for his deflated lungs, he rolled over, snatching the pages off the ground, shaking away the clinging droplets.
    “What is all that?” Tehya asked, as he blew on one of the pages, trying to dry the ink, before he placed them gently inside his bag, the strap twisted uncomfortably tight around his wrist.
    Hunter tensed. “Family stuff,” he answered, hating himself for how rude he sounded, but unwilling to say more—even to her.
    “Looks old,” Ariana noted.
    “Um, yeah. It is.” And essential, according to his grandpa, to finding out the truth about his parents.
    Suspicion dripped off her words. “Looks like Elder Script.”
    That again . He shrugged. “Yep.” Who cared what it was, so long as his grandpa's contact in Ruekridge could read it.
    She was silent for a moment, her eyes on the bag. “You ought to be nicer,” she muttered, extending her hand, “after what we just did for you.”
    He frowned, clasping her steady hand. “What was it you did for me, exactly?”
    A bitter laugh escaped her as she yanked him to his feet. “We kept that pretty face of yours from melting off your thick skull.”
    “Uh… what?”
    She let go of his hand, studied the dirt he’d transferred onto her, then wiped it off on her—were those shorts? It was freezing out here.
    “Wasn’t it obvious?” Tehya said, tilting her head to the sky and inhaling deeply, a soft smile spreading over her lips.
    He sniffed.