He sat at the desk and pulled the left sleeve of his arm up. The flesh was smooth and tan. He scratched at the flesh about an inch above his wrist until a small piece of skin came up. He pinched the skin and pulled slowly but firmly. As the skin was removed, a dark tattoo began to take shape. Garrick pulled a rectangular piece of skin off, roughly five inches long by two inches wide. He set it on the desk and looked it over.
It wasn’t skin at all, but a fabric type of material. It had been dyed to match his skin color and he held it in place using an adhesive liquid. It was a clever design he had commissioned a few years ago. Placing his index and middle finger on the tattoo, he closed his eyes.
“Mordum, hear my prayer …”
THE END OF BOOK TWO
THE VALIANT KING
The Fallen King Chronicles
