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

and always have been, Redcliffe Village. Greybark is simply a label put on our village by outsiders. Not only is our forest plentiful of grey sentinels, but we, as a people, also integrate their grey armor into our wardrobe, hence the given name, Greybark. It’s not as baffling as you make it out to be.” She transitions into a low and elderly voice, “What else would you like to know?”

“For starters, how is Zoie still alive?”

“She’s a youthful little squirt. How isn’t she still alive?”

“You’re proving my point.”

Fairview, rocking gently in her creaky wooden chair that looks as old as she does, looks at me with a puzzled expression. “Pardon?”

“A question for a question. Everything’s a riddle in this hidden tree fortress. Even the name is deceiving, and I’m positive the wildlife is in cahoots with your damned riddles as well.”

“Ah yes, you may have it right, but what would life be if you didn’t have to ponder your next, and every, move? It would be as simple as a summer breeze.”

A coincidental gust shudders through the treetops. It feels more like an autumnal breeze than a summer breeze, however. It causes goose prickles to waft over my skin.

“Very well, then…I believe you have gained my trust, so I will shed some light on what you believe to be true and what true truly is. Your understanding of the Solstice and Nox Sciences is just as they teach it at the Academy, I would presume. Is that correct?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because the Taoiseach has complete control over the curriculum. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“No.”

Fairview rolls her eyes at me. “Of course you don’t. There is more to the talents than what the Academy leads you to believe. Much more. For starters, every inhabitant on Azure is far more capable than they would have you believe. There is much potential wasted with our talents, and the Taoiseach knows this. It is how he maintains absolute power over the people of Vedora and Parliament. Which by now, you should realize is just a front to ease the frustrations of the people. Parliament has no real power. They’re simply a means to give the Taoiseach as much knowledge as he needs, and as much power as he needs, to manipulate the world around him. Even some of the members of Parliament believe themselves to be just and for the people, but truthfully, the Taoiseach has them all on strings. He is the grand master of all the marionettes. There is no elected sovereignty, and there is no real education in the Academy. You have been fed lies your entire life.

“On the contrary, Harris is far too familiar with the far end of the spectrum, and he has purpose for how he rules. Even if the rest of us disagree.” She casually shakes her head.

She pauses. I take the opportunity to speak up. “No offense, but you sound like The Old Grumpy Goat of Greybark right now.”

“There is always some truth pinned beneath rumor. Where was I…ah yes, I was getting to the point of how Zoie is still with us. The first thing you need to be aware of is it doesn’t work on just anything. The prerequisite for life is passion, endurance, and fight.” She nearly spits on me with the energy behind that last word. “And it must happen soon after the last breath has fled the lungs. Any longer and it will be a desperate reach, nothing more.”

“Umm…Fairview? What are you talking about?”

“Resurrection, of course.”

“Resurrection?” I repeat like a halfwit. “It’s real?”

“You’re proving my point, young lad.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. You know, most of us around here are Sprhowts, but we do have a handful of other races. And—this one might come as a shocker to you as well—there are a select few among us that are Grafts.” Her eyes light up as if she’s anticipating an explosion.

“Grafts? Taboo. They’re only real in fairy stories. Who are they?”

“Fairies are real too, young lad, but not important. I will not share secrets that are not mine to share. With that said, I can give you a partial answer.”

“And?” I reply eagerly. Grafts are cursed spirits, not humans. It’s preached as such. Advocate Gunther spoke this only months ago when I was in Greenport. To know they live among us is astonishing. I could not pass on the opportunity to meet one. I wonder if my father knew of them. Maybe that’s why I was always a disappointment to him. Maybe he is one of them.

“You are sitting in front of one,” Fairview responds humbly.

My eyes widen. Though, ultimately, I’m not all that surprised.

“I know you’re a Sprhowt, so what other talent do you have?”

Fairview doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, she draws a small kukri blade from her waistline. I do find it surprising a lady of her age feels it necessary to keep a blade on her. “Are you always packing?” I ask flippantly.

“I’m prepared just as you are with your blades and your whip. Ah, that reminds me…” She strenuously twists behind her seat and withdraws a coiled vine. “To replace your losses.” I reach for it, and she retracts. “Poisonous, dear. Be careful.” A new arachniwhip to replace the one Coloss shredded.

“Thank you.”

I suppose it doesn’t hurt for an old lady to be prepared. She continues with her demonstration. With the blade in her left hand and her right palm up, she slices deep into it. I jerk back, stunned and disgusted she would be so impulsive. Fairview, however, does not show any pain or have any kind of crazed look upon her face. She sits calmly rubbing the blade across her lap to wipe away the blood then raises her lacerated palm up so I can clearly see it. Before my eyes, I watch the color of