The bestselling author Jonathan Evan Hudson once again reigns supreme in telling thrilling tales of awe-inspiring fantasy full of action and adventure.

A rickety wobbling bridge of oak planks. Scolding deadly pale-amber steam below.

Of all the things for Blades de Reap to risk dying for in Trifacto for ...

Dive into this riveting action-packed epic fantasy story. Love flipping pages from night to dawn? Then go read Honey Sweet Dead Drop below:

Of all the things to die for … country, family, even duty … protecting the ultra-secret recipe of the most ultra-famous honey-sweetened ale in all of Trifacto … a summertime ale known as Frostkissed Love for its tender cool touch and yet delicious honey-sweet taste … not so bad, not so bad at all.

But only if Blades de Reap made the other guys die hard for stealing it instead.

Kinda hard while hanging off the narrow walkway of wobbly rickety oak planks. The planks were too smooth by far. So smooth it was actually sortof slippery.

No where for his fingers to cling to—except the raised engraving at the very edge.

An engraving of several thickly coiled and braided snakes right along the edge. A last hope of sorts. His fingers dug into it for dear, dear life. The individual scales carved into the snakes dug back just as hard into his fingers. Dug in as hard as memories best forgotten.

But fall and his fate was all too clear.

The scolding pale-amber steam from below now hid most the chains that this walkway hung straight down from. Why the chain’s steel link were fashioned like snakes eating their own tail … must be something behind that choice, but what?

Not important now.

The loud bubbling a dozen paces below warned of the awful death waiting for him if he fell. Along with that intense fragrance of honey and ale. So concentrated, so intense each breath was dizzying, even from all the way up here.

But falling into any of those gigantic black-iron cauldrons full of boiling dark amber liquid … not a good death. Not at all.

Especially from the sound of the scream of the last bad guy that fell into the one below Blades. A few minutes ago. And left Blades hanging for dear, dear life.

No sign of that tender cold touch of the ale either. Not yet. Not anywhere.

And that was the big secret. How to make the ale so that it would give that famous tender cool kiss no matter how hot it was outside. As long as it was freshly poured from its oak keg …

That this huge round underground room was a part of that remarkable tavern above ground, the Frostkissed Fun Joint, the one and only location in all of Trifacto that served Frostkissed Love fresh, and not out of a keg …

Above ground the tavern looked more like a gigantic redwood. Its insides hollowed out except for various ramps and floors along the whole height of the tree tavern. Even the smell of the tree remained. A nice pine smell. Supposedly the tree still lived. Still grew. With some help by magic that, of course, wasn’t explained at all, just hinted at, kinda like another secret.

Blades gritted his teeth. Not much time left.

Even if Blades himself was wiry but incredibly strong human. Not bulky like so many of his comrades, long gone comrades in the distant past. Not bulky in muscle or fat or both.

So going with the barbarian-style crimson leather loincloth since it turned out to be the cheapest out there. And the cheapest black leather straps around his limbs. That was his costume for the festival today, and not the full-of-feathers version that was several times heavier, thicker, and far too fragile for the loads of extra coin it costed.

A lucky coincidence. Plenty of other men dressed up as barbarians as well. Lots of others. Just for the festival today.

But now his arms trembled from exertion. Not a good sign. Not at all.

He’d need to lift himself. Maybe hop up with his arms. Possible for now but …

No obvious weapons left on him either. Decorative or legit. Just his own body.

Good enough—with the right luck.

And he’d need all the luck he could get with that clonk-clonk-clonk coming his way.

Another bad guy and his thick leather boots strutted down the walkway toward Blades. Clearly proud that he’d be the one to finish off this lone fly in the ointment …

The pale-amber steam hid the bad guy’s form at first. Only a dark menacing shadow of a muscular man. A bald man far taller and bigger than Blades. In the barbarian loincloth and straps like Blades was in, but with colorful feathers lining it all, so this bad guy already had coin to waste.

Those wicked flickers and glints …

A few steps later confirmed this bad guy was armed with plenty of real wicked steel blades. Daggers. Dirks. A pair of scimitars. Belted menacingly across his broad torso.

Even his thick leather boots had razor-sharp steel spikes around its soles. Just like his spiky steel pauldrons and knee guards.

Looming right above Blades the bad guy chuckled. Glared down at him. Raised one of his boots.

One massive foot about to stomp on both of Blades’s hands.

“A race to the bottom,” the bad guy said, “and you’re the only contestant this time!”

“We’ll see,” Blades said.

“See?!” the bad guy said. “Beg for mercy! The recipe is all ours now! You’re dead! Dead! Dead! As dead as that old freak of a woman who tried to play us! Her daughters will join her soon enough—if they’re as dumb as they look. After we have some fun with them…”

And the bad guy stomped down will full force.

A stomp that missed. Unbalanced the bad guy.

Since at the same instant Blades hopped up with pure arm force alone. High enough to grab the bad guy’s knee guard. Yank down. With the full force of Blades’s own weight.

Toppling the bad guy off the walkway. A bad guy so shocked he didn’t even scream.

Or stop Blades from grabbed one of his wicked daggers of thin curved steel.

All while giving Blades another much-needed boost upward.

A little more struggle and yeah! Blades was back standing on the walkway. Armed with a thin curved dagger. A dagger he slipped into a thigh sheath with a buttoned top.

Now he was ready to finish what these bad guys started. Eight down. Only gods knew how many left to go.

He didn’t miss the swallowtail butterfly fluttering away either.

A butterfly that no doubt carried a message to the leader of this pack of bad guys.

 It had all started Blades didn’t know how long ago. Several hours? A few hours? Just an hour? Hard to track time in the midst of battles like these.

Like most men of thirty-some years Blades had come to this once-a-year festival dressed up as some kind of barbarian, since everyone dressed up for this festival, and went out drinking. Why didn’t matter. Something about god this and god that. Not important. So Blades set out with two goals in mind.

Getting as drunk as possible. Maybe, maybe sleeping with a few ladies as well.

Maybe.

If he could forget his lost childhood love Pearl de Rose long enough. Drink often helped with that. His failure to save her from those bandits decades ago. Her bleeding out in his arms … despite, later, her family actually thanking him for saving the rest of them …

Fighting the good fight as a solider, or a mercenary, or even an adventurer helped Blades focus on the current moment. The past couldn’t be changed, just like Pearl had often said, but the future was up for grabs so grab it with everything you got.

Time to listen to Pearl before he ended up joining her sooner than either wanted.

Thanks any god who would listen that Blades had a wiry build. This walkway was far too narrow as it was. Slippery smooth too. Good thing those raised engravings along the edged. They saved him more than once.

How that last bad guy managed to strut down so quickly and without a care in the world …

The fragrant steam ensured the pale-amber surrounding him was even more dizzying than before. Not too different from some of the lava streams he had to march far too close to over the years as a soldier, or mercenary, or even adventuring for whatever reason.

No rope or chain to hold onto and balance himself either. A very dangerous setup. Why so dangerous … taverns were run by women, especially older women, and those tavern women, least those he knew over the years, would never tolerate such dangerous setups.

Even the younger women would refuse to work in such dangerous conditions so why …

This walkway even forked here and there. No clear direction to go. So how to find his way … if only Pearl was here with him. Here to help.

But no. Wishes were a waste of time. As Pearl proved with her early death.

Focus on what he could do now.

Men only did some of the physical label in those tavern families. Pearl came from one of those families. Blades was, at the time, destined to help with the physical labor and as a warrior to protect her and her family from troublemakers but when trouble did strike …

Voices came from out of the steam. Echoing in the gigantic round room but muffled too. Several guys. Still in the far distance from the sound of them.

Blades listened carefully. As best he could.

“Last daughter …”

Three daughters here at the tavern, if everything he saw earlier at the festival was right.

“… capture alive …”

Better alive then dead. He can rescue a living person. A dead person …

“She … frostkissed.”

Huh? Not sure what that meant.

And the tone of the words … they way the voice, the words were spread out … they were on the hunt.

And not just for Blades.

Another fork. Like a V. Chains at the notch and sides held it up securely … enough, not to wobble, too much.

But those menacing voices … closer too. From all directions.

Ahead.

Behind.

And even from the sides.

Least the planks of the narrow walkways were now painted a bright easily-seen green. Why these planks were painted green, Blades had no idea. Maybe some of those gods were listening to his prayers after all. He’d have to remember their names now. Maybe give them an offering or two if he survived this mess.

Even with the pale-amber steam everywhere the green planks were easier to see. Even with the steam dizzying Blades. Dizzying more and more with the intense honey and ale fragrance. The endless bubbling loud and clear below him.

The buzz of drunkness too. A all-too-familiar buzz over the years. One that would slow him down some and make him sloppy.

And sloppy here would get Blades killed.

From the right walkway, from out of the pale-amber steam, came the most stunningly gorgeous girl … no more than twenty and yet so lithe and yet so sexy curvy. Gulp.

Not the time for lusting after a girl. No matter how pretty.

But she … kinda looked like Pearl, actually. With similar wedges of golden hair, except this girl’s only went down to her incredibly buxom chest, and this girl had azure-blue highlights in her hair.

Mostly exposed chest so she clearly embraced the carefree sexy of the festival and ah. Small bat-like but scaled wings as a bra top? Azure-blue wings from her sides. Same for her bottoms. Real wings judging by those veins pulsating in them.

Definitely not Pearl. Pearl was completely human.

And this girl had brilliant teal eyes with slightly slitted pupils.

Very wide eyes at him. His eyes at her level too. Same height.

From her forehead were curled up two sleek thumb-sized horns of azure-blue. That size of horn, and given her apparent age of around twenty, she was a half dragon, half human. So her bones would be extra-light but extra-tough.

Just like her strength. All lean muscle. Not as strong but loads of endurance.

The only real clothing she had on was a pair of fluffy white cat gloves and slippers, and a headband fashioned from a pair of rib bones but with two white fluffy cat ears attached to the top. Clothing used as a costume for the festival. Her left glove still had bits of gooey peach cobbler still on them from a dessert eating contest held earlier today, at the tree tavern above.

A contest she won. Got dubbed Peaches Delight. No clue what her real name was.

Blades got a nice second place too. Got dubbed Nut Boy as a reward.

And a few free drinks of Frostkissed Love too.

Her pink lips curled into a scornful grimace. Matched by her eyes going fully serpent and vicious.

But the bit of gooey peach on her dimpled cheek diminished the fearful effect.

“You!” Peaches said. “Out of my way or … another robber? Here to steal and murder?!”

Her mouth opened. Azure-blue flames licking her lips.

The air suddenly cooled down. Enough to almost made Blades shiver.

Blades waved his palms at her in surrender.

“Wait Peaches Delight!” Blades said. “It’s Nut Boy! From the contest earlier! I—”

The flame vanished. She took a deep breath, her tongue partly out. Scenting the air with her tongue.

“Thirteen robbers and you killed some of them … beside my two.”

“Yeah! Eight of them so far,” Blades said. “You can scent their blood—except for a couple who fell into the cauldrons below.”

The hard look in her eyes softened a touch, but only a touch.

“You know what I am.”

The clonk-clonk-clonks of heavy boots against stiff oak planks came from all three directions of the fork.

Closer and closer. Faster and faster.

Blades nodded. “We’re surrounded but—”

“Oh Nut Boy,” Peaches said, and with a sweet but twisted gleam in her eyes. “Is that what you think? No wonder you only got second place …”

Blades had no idea how to take Peaches’ last comment.

And not just because the strong fragrance was so dizzying. Drunk dizzy.

Or this Peaches girl was so dizzying beautiful and gorgeous and half-naked. Blades was getting drunk from lust just being this close to her.

Peaches stood at the center of the fork. Where all the nearest chains were. The pale-amber steam all around them was getting thicker and thicker. Blades didn’t know why it was getting thicker but this girl’s very breath seemed to cool things down around them.

So she was some kind of ice dragon. No doubt her breath held part of the precious Frostkiss secret.

A secret he didn’t need to know. Just protect. For Pearl’s sake.

For decency’s sake.

The menacing voices and clonks came closer and closer. Still hidden by the steam. But faster and faster.

Only moments away.

Yet Peaches only let out a sweet but wicked-sounding giggle.

Then she spread out an azure-blue pair of scaled bat-like wings from behind her slim waist, so likely the wings were from the nap of her back.

But they spread out only to an wingspan as long as her arms.

A dark shadow of a muscular man behind her. To the left.

A glint flashed. High up. A blade. A scimitar. Swinging down. At her wing.

Blades didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed her shoulders.

Jerked her around. Enough that the blade missed. Completely.

Swooshing harmlessly passed her wings.

The clonks. More incoming. Moments away.

Yet Peaches grimaced. An even more wicked gleam in her teal eyes.

“Oh is that how you want to play this? Naughty. Naughty.”

Just as the dark man shadow jerked his blade back. Due to a moment unbalanced.

The bastard hadn’t expected to miss.

Peaches hugged Blades tight. Smooshing her stunning buxom chest and its amazingly soft wings against him.

Blades hugged her back. “I love a naughty girl. Time for a leap of love.”

And with a powerful kick he flung them off the walkway.

A walkway that wobbled so very suddenly, swung so very strongly. Screams of three more men. Men falling to their doom.

Not a surprise.

“That’s lucky thirteen!” Blades said.

Peaches giggled. “Oh silly boy. Luck is what you make of it.”

But it took more than luck for Peaches to glide so far with Blades hugging her for dear, dear life… the best surprise of the night so far.

Until one of those men’s screams—one of the men—somehow swooped upward.

And starting chasing them.

The thick pale-amber steam completely hid their pursuer. The last robber of this rotten lot.

But the everlasting bubbling below warned how far up they were at least. No muffling that sinister sound.

No taming the buzz from the alcoholic kick of all this steam either.

As Blades hung from Peaches, hugging her as much as she hugged him. They glided downward slowly but steadily. Least they were upright, but slanted back a good bit. Yet Peaches was clearly straining herself.

No telling how long she could keep this up.

When a dark shadow appeared above them. Man-shaped. Lean and wiry. With wings similar to Peaches but twice as big.

“Pretty dragon girls are a penny a picnic,” the man above them growled. “Don’t think I can’t buy one thrice as pretty as that dragon bitch and ten times stronger flame. ”

Blades grimaced. “If you need to buy a girl to have her then—”

“Why waste time wooing when buying is so much easier!”

His dark menacing shadow. Closer and closer. Darker and darker.

The pale-amber steam still hid the robber in shadow.

Just like it should hide Blades and Peaches from that last robber.

So Blades slipped his one and only dagger out of its buttoned sheath.

“Easier isn’t always better, you lazy bastard,” Blades said.

“Lazy? I’m show you lazy! With the recipe we stole I can be as lazy as I want!”

The dark shadow—turned downward.

“As long as you’re both too dead to identify me.”

The dark shadow dove right at them.

At Peaches. Her back.

Only an instant to react.

For Blades to fling the dagger.

Thunk!

Into the guy’s forehead.

And his landing—no where as bad as Peaches could ever …

Okay Blades and Peaches survived their landing. That was good. Good enough.

On the good side, despite the low visibility due to all the pale-amber steam,  Peaches somehow still managed to turn enough, and in the right way, during their flight not to outright crash into the dark stone walls of the room.

Even if the wall had been less than a hand’s thickness away …

A wall so chilly cold the pale-amber steam had diminished. The wall itself seemed to sweat pale amber liquid. Smell even more fragrant than the steam and cauldrons still below them.

But Blades had no doubt Peaches had misjudged just how high the stone walkway was.

It was a walkway carved into the stone walls and apparently, with the steam away from the wall, seemed to wrap around the huge round room.

Thankfully the stone here on this walkway was even smoother than those slippery smooth planks.

His back discovered the hard way just as crazy smooth the stone was. And probably made a strip of it even more smooth. Maybe even polished. Even if freezing cold.

That Peaches was still on top of him. Both of them nearly naked.

A very nice consolation prize for surviving this disaster.

It was even wide enough to do a roll around and back. If she—

“Like my landing?” Peached said, and wiggled suggestively on top of him.

“Do I …” Blades said, and gave her a very suggestive hug back

Her throaty giggle and mischievous look down at Blades, clearly she was thinking the same thing.

And a moment later it was more than thinking.