Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (ereader that reads to you txt) 📗

The master says nothing more. He stands above me, waiting for my exit. The rot I forced on him has receded. Did I imagine it? I rise, no help from anyone. I look around, and everyone glares at me, saying not a word. I shrug my shoulders and make way for the thornwood perimeter. My classmates stumble, backing on their heels as I pass by.

I hop over the thornwood fence, not noticing the pricks my palms receive as I do so, but they are there. I gaze over my shoulder, unsure what is happening, but acquiescing because what else is there to do.

“Find yourself, Stone McLarin,” the master speaks out loud.

He knows. I wasn’t sure if I had imagined that or not. He knows who I am. They all do.

Am I being shunned? Banished? Do they think me a murderer? Do they think what just happened to Master Stormwood is the same fate my parents received? Or is it solely because I’m a Graft and they witnessed the destruction imbued within me? The Dihkai are no different, so why is this happening to me? Why has Susy chosen this life for me?

I’m alone. I’ve failed. I’ve failed everybody. I left my parents to die. I failed to save Elder. I could have, but I didn’t. Now, what’s left of my family—what I swore to protect—has chosen to separate themselves from me. Is it because I’m a Graft? It couldn’t be. Jay doesn’t know. What have I done? What do I have left? The Taoiseach and his Shadow? Am I leading myself down the same path as her? Am I to become Harris’s pawn as well? Or am I already. I followed every step the Taoiseach planned for me, and now I’m stuck between the Shadow and the dark surface that casts her.

Wandering aimlessly, I happen upon my next course at the flight chamber. Why? I don’t know. I don’t have the Academy anymore. Not now that I’ve been outed as a McLarin and a Graft. I shouldn’t be here. I should be confronting the Taoiseach. That’s who I am. I’m the Taoiseach’s pawn. And I need to confront the Taoiseach.

I step into the lofty chamber. The class has not arrived yet. Master Sephyre sits at his desk in the corner of the open space. I approach him.

“I’m ready,” I say with false confidence. I’m not ready, but I don’t know of another way to reach the Taoiseach. The Crimson Guard don’t let anyone through his gates. The only time I stepped foot within his walls, I was escorted. And my next course with him isn’t for several days, and I cannot wait that long. I might be murdered by my classmates before then, judging by the glares I received during my trudge away from the combat circle. This is the only way.

Master Sephyre reacts just as I hoped, with charismatic enthusiasm. His pupil is progressing and, whether it is to protect Astor’s reputation for recommending me into the program or pride he has helped me overcome a fear, he’s proud of it. It is something he’s accomplishing. Not me. His bright smile shines, and he rises to his feet.

“Of course! Unlike Master Martelli, I believe in second chances.” His smile is a devious one. “Let us do this now. No need to wait. We’ll get you prepped as the remainder of the class arrives.”

He calls down his prized harpy eagle, Zephyr, and gears it with a harness. Once it is secure, he gestures for me to wait as the class begins to arrive.

Careless and impulsive, I ignore his request. I climb aboard the winged beast as I’ve been taught, and I attach the reins. “Fly,” I command.

Master Sephyre’s gaze narrows in on me. There is a bit of shock, but what prevails is a sinister glare. Maybe I have it wrong. Maybe Master Sephyre isn’t reacting as I’d hoped. Maybe I’m reacting as Master Sephyre hoped. Does he want me to take flight knowing I’m not ready? I cannot trust anyone. Is Master Sephyre part of the Taoiseach’s masquerade too? Of course he is. Everyone is.

Further proof I must confront the Taoiseach. I must know what my role is in his game. I stick with my plan. If I can call it that.

The raptor takes flight.

Its wings heave up and down as it rises in the chamber, creating a massive gust below. I waste no time. When we get to the top of the chamber, I direct it forward. We fly straight for one of the open archways holding up the chamber roof, and we pass through it into the open air.

With my feet pushing back in the stirrups, I lean forward on the raptor and grip the handles about the collar fastened around its neck. I hold on tight, climbing higher and higher until I know we are only a spec in the sky to any Crimson Guard below. We fly high above the fortified barricade surrounding the Martelli Manor. It is time to settle this.

It is done. The destructive force has been removed from the realm. The Taoiseach and his followers did not go quietly, seeing to it the Hybreed was removed along with them. With the population at a low, the moon screams in agony. The seasons have blended. Crimson shadows have erupted all over the surface. Our paradise has regained its freedom. The cost…death.

48 Elder

Four seasons earlier…

T he surface below me is plush and comfortable. My eyes struggle to open, so I let them collapse shut. I am plastered on a settee in a dark chamber. I expected to wake up behind bars in a cold, damp cell. And half expected to stay in the dreamless world forever. This is a good surprise, considering the situation, minus the throbbing pain that welcomes itself back into the majority of my body.

I hear