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

their breed. But it does not make them trustworthy. Be careful who you lie with.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ellia is right, though. Parliament awaits an opportunity to unseat me, and heading a mass assassination would offer an easy finger to point. It wouldn’t matter if they all deserved death or if I were to burn a chapel full of infants. I can maneuver my way through harboring a fugitive or a homicide. But the tongue of man is a slippery beast. One I choose to avoid if I can, which is why I have the utmost respect for knowledge. I keep what I know, and I choose what I keep. “Proceed with the task how you see fit. I trust you won’t forget the consequences of failure.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“You are excused.” She turns to exit the room just as Sasha returns with a mop to clean up after me. I suddenly find myself peeved that I need to find a new general.

I'm not alone anymore. Everyone in this civilization has become a prisoner of their own fears and agony. Streets are empty at day, and fears creep about at night. Trade is limited. Freedom is lost.

7 Stone

L ying on my bed mat, I peer out the hole in our yurt we’ve dubbed a window, watching as daylight crawls into the forest. It’s been a couple fortnights since our run-in with the Lost Souls, enough for Cerise to cycle through a full ambience to be exact.

I stretch and, with the back of my hand, wipe away sweat accumulating on my forehead. I use my linen to get to other crevices of my body. The enduring summer heat is relentless even at dawn. Today might be a day to venture to the waterhole for a bath.

Rolling onto my side, I see Goose has already risen, but Jaymes continues to sleep. Her wounds haven’t improved much. Goose and I have kept her bed ridden—not without a struggle—since we carried her back home. She was in and out of consciousness for the first few days, only waking long enough to consume minimal liquids.

She woke long enough for a conversation on the fourth day. With much embarrassment, she shared her story with us about why she went parading through the forest so close to twilight. Goose and I had a good laugh at her dismay and shared our fretful experiences with her as well. We left the conversation—or at least I did—with onerous thoughts. The danger in this forest is real, and we brushed too close to it that night. And who were those men who stole away the Lost Souls? We may not be safe here anymore.

Since then, Goose has taken sole ownership in filling our bellies, primarily with bluegill and muddy silvers, which offer a bland, gritty flavor. He hasn’t brought back a single critter with fur or feathers on its back. Come to think of it, I don’t recall him ever having a kill in our four seasons hunting together. If he weren’t so vocal about beasts being lesser than man, I would almost think he takes a leg out of the esteemed Ironball strategies and puts them on a pedestal for protection. The beasts of this world are Goose’s ironball.

The thought of Ironball strikes pleasant memories. Mine and my father’s pastime. What a reward it would be to see another Ironball match. When in the capital, my father would steal time away from his important duties as the Architect to take me to see the Iron Eagles. It was against my mother’s discretion, but I know my parents discussed the matter beforehand. They always made decisions together. And they both had their roles to play. My mother’s was the nurturer. She didn’t approve of such brutality. My father, he knew there were lessons to be learned in everything. And brutal it may be, but death is rare in the sport. They always survive to play the next match. The Healers in the sport are the best in the realm. I wonder what it takes to be like them. I would feel much better if I knew Jay would always survive to the next match.

“What are you staring at?”

Jay shatters the walls of my memories and brings me back to reality. Back to an awkward moment of watching my sister sleep. My face burns with embarrassment.

“Er…sorry.” I brush my hands through the mop on my head and rise to my feet. “Just lost in thought. You’re up earlier than usual.”

“The last few weeks are not the usual,” she spits back. “In full health, I haven’t been able to turn off the squawk of the robins at dawn. Listen to them.”

“I rather enjoy the sound of the robins. It’s soft. Easy on the ears. Beautiful really. And this doesn’t mean you’re in full health.”

Jay coughs and eases back into her bed mat. I’m tempted to check her temperature and examine her wounds, but I know she’ll fend me off like a diving bat, swatting at me until I get out of her space. I’ll give it a moment.

“I better get moving. It’ll take me the better part of the day to make sure those thunder lanterns are buzzing properly.” I’ve taken up Jaymes’s responsibilities while she’s been indisposed.

“I can help.” Another cough pumps from her lungs.

“I know you can. And I want you to. But not until you’re healthy enough.”

“It shouldn’t take you all day, you know? Let me show you the sweet spot.”

“It’s the extra thunder lanterns we added. More thunder lanterns, more thunderbugs. It’s only logical it takes me longer. It’s not a light task.”

“No. It isn’t.”

All this time, I thought I appreciated what she did for us. Now, I know I do.

“Let me check those wounds before I go,” I ask.

“Fine.” She rolls onto her back and drapes her mouth open with an