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

This building has been standing since then, and it looks the part. The upper level appears to be an afterthought. I’m sure it’s anchored in some fashion, but if a fisherman were to share a story of a wooden boat washing ashore and planting itself on top during one of those great floods, I would believe him. It’s a whitewashed structure with portholes and radial shutters to match. And a cute white trim. The vessel is stacked on top of the old stone structure. It manages to give the ancient building a cozy appeal.

I walk Helios to the stables and make my way inside the public house. It ought to be littered with gossip and drunken fishermen more than willing to share, but it isn’t. The door creaks shut behind me with a loud knock when it hits the jamb. I flinch.

The barmaid gives me a funny look as she cleans a nearby table. I dismiss it and hurry to the counter where another woman polishes the glassware with a rag.

“A room please?” My voice is shaky. The simple act of opening my mouth to allow my tongue to work intimidates me. I was always shy as a child. And having been secluded for four seasons seems to have amplified the matter.

“Aye, half a copper,” she declares.

The gold rib fumbles out of my grip and I slap a palm down to stop the loud clinking, inadvertently slamming it onto the counter. I draw more attention with that act than the clinking of the coin alone would have. I sneak a glance over my shoulder and see the barmaid eyeing me again and the few customers strewn about too. “And I’ve a tiger in the stable too,” I add wearily.

“Ah, a full copper then. We’ll get it fed and groomed.” She swipes the gold rib from the counter, looks me up and down, then gives the coin a suspicious once over. She pockets it and counts out nine silver ribs and nine coppers, sliding them across the counter as she does.

“And how much for a bath?” The question comes out as a whisper. But she hears it well enough.

She cocks her head, her eyes giving me another inspection. “For you, lad…it’s on the house. Looks like it’s been a while.”

I nod my appreciation and turn around to face the open room. It feels as though everyone is staring at me. They’re not. But I move quick to find a seat at an empty table anyhow.

The place isn’t as crowded as I imagined it would be at this hour. Though, I have no concern I’ll be pointed in the right direction of a Healer. And if I’m lucky, I can dig up some information on the Woman-in-Red as well. I wait only a few moments before the servant approaches. The same barmaid that’s been interrogating me with her eyes. She’s a young girl, older than me, but still young. Probably twenty-some seasons. She has dark hair with… Blue eyes! A Lahyf! A Healer! She must be.

“What can I do you for, young sir?”

I’m taken aback temporarily when her boorish vocals sound off. It is far from matching the sweet, innocent visual. One of those enigmas you happen upon from time to time, I suppose.

It feels rude to immediately ask for help, so I order a meal first. I should get a feel for the public house and who this servant is before asking any suspicious questions. In truth, I’m unsure how to approach it, or what to ask. I figure I have all night to work up the courage to find an aid.

“A spiced ale and whatever meat you’re serving tonight please.” The shakiness in my voice eases. My third, no fourth interaction with someone outside of Jay or Goose. I wonder if I came across this sheepish to the Woman-in-Red. I was too busy fearing for my life to recognize it if I did.

“The spiced ale I can do. As for the meat, you won’t find nothin’ but freshwater pickin’s in this alehouse. Breaded cod, smoked salmon, seared halibut, sautéed swordfish, ginger calamari, crab cakes, lemon zest eel strips, you name it. What would you like, sweetie?” She sees I’m caught off guard by the list. “I’d recommend the cod,” she suggests with a smile. She leans in and whispers, “Regardless of what you ask for, lad, it’s the only thing they pull from the delta anymore. And it’s all you’re gonna get. You’ll just cough up a few more coppers with the others. Something about a delta demon runnin’ amuck or somethin’. It’s scaring away the food supply.” She straightens back up, “The cod then, young sir?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer, “the cod please.”

“You got it, sweet cheeks.” She smiles with a wink and scuttles back to the kitchen.

It has to be a tall tale, but I suppose the delta is large enough for such a creature.

The Scarlet Delta is the largest body of water in Vedora. All rivers, streams and creeks eventually flow into it. A massive lake of sorts. It can get shallow during a drought but not so shallow that the fishermen’s vessels cannot get around. History has it written there once was a drought so long it lasted multiple cycles of the seasons. It was a time in which the winters were warm, the spring and fall were unpredictable, and the summers were unbearable. It’s labeled in the texts as the Season of Solitude. And that’s the only time in history the delta has been reduced to an endless pit of mud. Ever since, it’s been flowing strong enough to be Greenport’s lifeline. Without it, the anglers would resort to casting their lines into the treetops of the Broken Forest to hang themselves. I’m sure of it.

“Caster once angled a demon, you know it. I saw it meh own eyes!” A voice sounds from the table nearest me.