Rok La Montana Andante #27

Rok La Montana Andante #27

5.0 3
by Adam Blade
     
 

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Product Details

ISBN-13:
9788408124283
Publisher:
Lectorum Publications, Inc.
Publication date:
07/11/2014
Edition description:
Spanish-language Edition
Pages:
128
Product dimensions:
5.10(w) x 7.60(h) x 0.40(d)
Age Range:
8 - 10 Years

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Rok La Montana Andante #27 5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 2 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Ivy watched her brother with a worried scowl. Dominic was lost in a feverish dream world. Of that she was sure. He seemed nervous, but for once, things actually seemed to be going well. Nothing had attacked them yet at all and they were nearly there. <br> Dominic could have shouted in frustration... were he not unable to say anything at the moment. Dispite what his sister thought, Dominic's mind was still sharp and clear. Which made the fact that he only seemed to be able to stumble forward even more agonizing. Ever since they had started towards the village he had felt them... it was like a prickle of apprehention running down his spine. They were being watched. Hunted. Shadowfiends were close, he could feel their eyes burning into his skin. Why couldn't the others? A thought struck him suddenly, and he shivered dispite the warm summer air. What if they were just watching him? The other two had gone ahead to see if they could find a healer in the village. Ivy ruffled Dominic's hair, much to his annoyance actually. And said, "hang in there Domino." Domino was her nickname for him. Dominic tried to ignore his growing sense of forboding, knowing that his increased heart rate would only speed the poison now raging through his system. Why didn't Ivy feel them? Finally the village came into view, and Dominic couldn't help wondering why the Shadowfiends hadn't killed them already. There was no doubt in his mind that they were there. <br> The Shadowfiends had been following the two humans for quite a while now. Nearly all day. Their dark amber eyes met as they spoke in Killian, the old language. It was strange to hear the fierce, deadly looking Shadows speak in the musical language of the ancients. But they added their own distinct hiss. "The dark haired one smells of death." The first murmered. "Of deceit." The second agreed, pausing to sniff the sickly sweet traces of poison on the boy. "But the other is good. Much long since we had human." The third reminded his companions. The other two nodded, echoing this. "No." Said the first suddenly, "not this two." The second narrowed its amber eyes, "why?" The first narrowed his eyes also. "Smell again." The second and third both did as the first said, tilting their muzzles upwards to catch the breeze. "The warren." The third breathed. "They is the ones." All three turned towards the village, golden eyes taking in everything. Then as one the turned and raced silently through the trees.