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

“Fairview, you shouldn’t do that.”

The man is completely unaware of the dagger in his leg until he physically sees it. Who is this man?

“Goose, run!” Fairview manages to spurt out one more time, not without more blood. Then the man pulls the dagger from his leg, once again without flinching, raises it above her, and puts the blade straight through the top of her skull. She falls limp and hits the ground in front of her wooden rocking chair.

The man looks up to me. “The bitch won’t recover from that one. Eh?”

I turn and run.

It was a test on humanity. They introduced themselves to death and dissuaded it. The weakened state of mankind has grasped this idea and raises it high above themselves. With the Taoiseach and the destruction behind them, the Advocates have replaced the Hybreed, the false god, with the true god, Susy—the creator of the seasons, and thus, faith is born.

50 Ellia

T he door to my chamber swings open, and in rushes a petite frame. Jaymes is distressed. She makes mistakes when she’s distressed. She still lets her emotions get to her. She’s drifted from my influence and taken on the Taoiseach’s. He’s going to destroy her.

I put down the bolts I’m tipping and rise to my feet.

I draw the shades and see morning has come. She was spying again. Why? She knows he knows.

Jaymes tugs at the doors to her wardrobe, sending them flying open to attack the wall and retreat. She starts scouring through her belongings, which are mostly comprised of warrior’s garb and weaponry. “I’ve been banished,” she speaks.

My eyes go wide. She speaks! I’m not surprised she can still speak, but she hasn’t spoken in front of me since the day I carved her tongue. I look to Elder but cannot see his expression in the shadows. He may have already known. Her lisp is a bit repulsive. We’ll need to fix that.

“Banished?” I repeat. I hate it when people do that—speak what has already been spoken.

“I’ve witnessed things I shouldn’t have,” she says in a calm voice while disrobing. She kicks the black night-attire to the side and shuffles through her wardrobe again.

“Things the Taoiseach believes you shouldn’t have, you mean,” Elder corrects her from where he lies on the bed.

She pauses, alarm showing on her face from his presence, but she doesn’t cover herself. “Yes,” she responds.

Her physique has developed quite a bit this summer. She came to us a petite, frail girl. Although still petite, she is defined. Curves and muscle in all the right places. She is shaping into the part, but whatever decision she is making tonight will likely bring it to an end.

I place a hand on her shoulder and study her. She stares back. Calm except for a racing heartbeat. I try to pierce through into her thoughts, but she holds a strong wall these days. There’s nothing to see. “What do you know, Jaymes?”

She inhales a slow steady breath. Her eyes flicker to Elder, then back to me. She ponders whether she should divulge her secrets. She’s certainly taking sides with the Taoiseach.

“A sinister man named Carib. He dabbles in what’s taboo. He wasn’t afraid of the Taoiseach.” Her brow crinkles, and fear reveals itself in her eyes.

The Taoiseach is the ultimate power to her. If there is another who acknowledges he’s more powerful, then he will only take the place of the current tyrant. I don’t fault her for being afraid with the knowledge she has.

“Carib Reign,” I whisper.

“You know of him?”

“I may have…created him.” I think back on our history. This man was weak. Not a man, a boy. “I punished him for things he’d done. I mistakenly thought him dead when I was finished with him. He survived only to cause more harm. The Taoiseach had a moment of weakness and was merciful because he was only a boy. He banished him. Most others would have been assassinated, evidence or not. And I…with the punishment I awarded him, I showed him the potential of his talent. He survived the black rot, and a transformation within him began.”

Goose prickles cover Jaymes’s body as she realizes she’s still standing within her wardrobe in her undergarments. She continues shuffling through it and pulls out a midnight-red, armored-silk cross-sash with a hood and matching greaves. She plans to murder the Taoiseach.

“The Taoiseach would not banish you for discovering an enemy of his. He would only banish you if you discovered you are capable of more than what he desires. And he has obviously grown attached to you, otherwise you would be dead. You don’t exist, Jaymes. Not to the public. He could have killed you without consequence. Why are you so special? Your talent is great, but not so great he would veer from his principles. What else do you know?”

She finishes pulling on her form-fitting greaves and looks up to me. “Nothing,” she responds untruthfully.

My probing is too aggressive. She fears to give me too much information.

“I know what you are about to do,” I suggest. “Don’t do it. You’re not ready.”

“No, I’m not. It’s not easy for me, like it is you. It may tear apart my soul. But if it means freedom for Stone and Goose, it’s worth it. He’s only a man.” Jaymes straps on a belt and a cross harness to hold a pair of katanas, which she pulls from the back of the wardrobe. Then she slips on a pair of red, fingerless gloves and pulls the hood over her head. “Do I at least look ready?”

She reaches into the wardrobe and finds two kukri blades. She spins them in her palms and tucks them into her belt. She stands tall with a fierce