The Bone Conjurer. Alex Archer
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“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to bring the skull to me.
“If you do not comply, at precisely five minutes beyond the twenty-four-hour mark, I will kill you. Got it?”
Annja nodded. “How am I supposed to find you?”
Serge leaned close and hissed in her ear. “The Linden Hill cemetery off Starr Street. Tomorrow morning, this time.”
“A graveyard? Swell,” she mumbled.
Something sharp pricked her wrist. Annja let out a yelp as what felt like a knife entered her flesh and, with a forceful shove, traveled through to bone.
Serge gave the instrument a twist. Annja screamed. Agony felled her to her knees. Serge tugged it out and stepped back.
Struggling to maintain consciousness, and looking up to see the weird tubelike blade he tucked inside his coat, Annja reached out—for what, she didn’t know. It seemed as though something should come to her hand. Something that could protect her.
Instead, she fell forward and blacked out….
Titles in this series:
Destiny
Solomon’s Jar
The Spider Stone
The Chosen
Forbidden City
The Lost Scrolls
God of Thunder
Secret of the Slaves
Warrior Spirit
Serpent’s Kiss
Provenance
The Soul Stealer
Gabriel’s Horn
The Golden Elephant
Swordsman’s Legacy
Polar Quest
Eternal Journey
Sacrifice
Seeker’s Curse
Footprints
Paradox
The Spirit Banner
Sacred Ground
The Bone Conjurer
Rogue Angel™
The Bone Conjurer
Alex Archer
THE LEGEND
…THE ENGLISH COMMANDER TOOK JOAN’S SWORD AND RAISED IT HIGH.
The broadsword, plain and unadorned, gleamed in the firelight. He put the tip against the ground and his foot at the center of the blade. The broadsword shattered, fragments falling into the mud. The crowd surged forward, peasant and soldier, and snatched the shards from the trampled mud. The commander tossed the hilt deep into the crowd.
Smoke almost obscured Joan, but she continued praying till the end, until finally the flames climbed her body and she sagged against the restraints.
Joan of Arc died that fateful day in France, but her legend and sword are reborn….
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
PROLOGUE
Granada, Spain, 1430
Cool palace walls offered welcome respite from the thick August heat. Dusty air clogged at the back of Garin Braden’s throat. While journeying from the Christian lands of Castile to the great Muslim palace of Alhambra the two men had stopped frequently and rested much.
His master’s horse was a fourteen-hand destrier of Arabian blood, but bred more for battle than long-distance travel.
Garin’s own mount was a pale rouncey dusted with red clay from the roads, on its last legs, surely. Their greater destination of Rouen, France—his master had been called to protect the Maid of Orléans—would not