The Gembound: The Price of Keeping Chapter 109: Volume 4: Chapter 101 – The Crown Mages Final Corruption

Read chapter 109 of The Gembound: The Price of Keeping by Taliorn on NovelPedia.

Volume 4: Chapter 101 – The Crown Mages Final Corruption Chapter 101 – The Crown Mages Final Corruption Then someone cleared his throat loudly. Daryl. He was now standing near the edge of the courtyard, looking between the prowling mountain lions, the lines of dead guards, and the pools of blood, with a look that was half impatience, half curiosity. “So,” he said. “About all the bodies lying around not doing anything useful…” And the next problem, as always, came rushing in. Daryl cleared his throat again, louder this time. Everyone ignored him. He upped the volume. “So. About all the bodies lying around not doing anything useful.” Half a dozen heads turned. Scythe did not sigh out loud, but his whole posture managed it. “Daryl.” “No, seriously,” Daryl said, gesturing with both hands at the courtyard. “We have three very large murder-cats pacing holes in the stone, like, right there. We have at least four people who were very devoted to the Queen who are now dead. We have armor just sitting there. Getting cold. Seems like a waste.” Shadow closed her eyes briefly. “Shut up.” “I am bringing up a practical concern,” Daryl protested. “Which is new and should be encouraged.” Yara rubbed the bridge of her nose. The lions, as if to underline the point, chose that moment to bare their teeth at each other, shoulders bunching. They were still holding position on Meredith by habit and training, but every line of their bodies said wrong. The shard stink that had been in Theodric was still tangled in their flesh. Yara stepped toward the nearest lion. It snarled at her, lips peeled back so far she could see the crimson meat behind the gums. Its ears flattened. It backed away a pace, muscles bunching as if it were deciding whether to run or leap. She lifted her hand anyway, palm out, letting the Gem flare just enough to be felt. The lion’s entire body spasmed like it had been shocked. That wrong shard-taint screamed at the Gem, and the Gem screamed back. The cat recoiled hard, claws gouging the stone, eyes gone wide and wild. Yara pulled her hand back, teeth clenched. “They are corrupted,” she said. Harry moved closer, drawn by the stink of Theodric’s power and the way the lions’ hackles rose. “Theodric’s shard did this,” he said, voice low. “Not yours. Your Gem will not take them. Not cleanly.” The Gem agreed, a cold, offended hiss under Yara’s ribs. Not mine. Not my pattern. I will not eat that , it said, with the deeply offended air of a chef presented with a rotten carcass. Daryl threw his hands up. “Right. So they are broken, and you do not want to touch them. Got it.” He pointed at the line of bodies that had once been royal guards. “But those are just dead. Dead is easy. You like dead. Dead is your favorite hobby.” “Daryl,” Scythe said again. “I am just saying,” Daryl barreled on. “If nobody is going to do anything with them, I would like to get paid extra for dragging them to the pyre when we burn the rest, because that armor is heavy and I am very small inside.” Yara turned to look at him. “Fine,” she said, more sharply than she intended. “You want a job so badly.” Daryl straightened. “Always.” “Take Whistle,” she said. “Find the Queen’s dead bodyguards. All of them. Bring them here. Armor and all.” Daryl brightened like someone had lit a fuse behind his eyes. “Finally,” he said. “An actual task. Corpse collection. My favorite.” “Armor,” Scythe added. “Do not lose a single plate.” “I heard you,” Daryl said. “Armor, bodies, no souvenir belt buckles, got it.” He whistled sharply. Whistle, who had been watching everything with the patient intensity of a huge predator, padded over and bumped his head into Daryl’s shoulder. “Come on, boy,” Daryl said, vaulting up with his usual complete disregard for whether that was a good idea. “We are going on a scavenger hunt.” Shadow watched them bolt toward the shattered gate. “We are going to find bits of them in five different alleys,” she said. “Probably,” Scythe said. “But he will bring the imp