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

She still has her fire. Proof it takes a lot to bring her spirit down. And the best part is, it’s contagious.

Dawn comes in the blink of an eye. I wake not from the morning sun that’s impossible to see in this forest but from an eruption of owls. An aggressive wake-up call, but a sight beyond words and worth the startle. There are hundreds and not all of the same variety. It’s disturbing I wasn’t aware of all the birds surrounding us in the night, even sharing the same branch, yet on the contrary, it’s so beautiful to see such power and elegance take flight.

My mother lived for nature. Her passing passion helped me recognize several of the species. Hawk owls and smaller elf owls. Great horned owls, spotted owls, and snowy owls. But the few that grab my attention are the renowned eagle owls whose wingspan is twice that of the next largest owl.

I escape my mother’s world and fall back to self-control—my father’s world. I recognize what an oddity this must be. Owls don’t travel together.

A cool morning breeze pulls me from my thoughts and into the flesh. Uncommon for this season, but not unheard of, I suppose. It has me craving a more concealing wardrobe. My thin tunic leaves my arms bare to nature, and my cambric trousers are littered with four seasons of ubiquitous holes.

But there is a warmth about this moment as well. Jay is nuzzled into my chest with my arm wrapped around her. She warms me from the inside out. I hesitate to disrupt the welcomed peace, but I know we need to be on the move before the chill subsides to unruly heat.

“Jay. Wake up,” I whisper and nudge her, but not too hard. The last thing I want to do is shove her out of the tree. “Jaymes, wake up.” Her eyes open just in time to see the last of the owls fly off, parting with lingering feathers that flutter all around us. “Did you see them?”

“The birds? I’ve seen birds before. What’s your problem? Can’t we rest a bit longer?” Jaymes closes her eyes and nuzzles into my shoulder, attempting to find her dreamland once more. The chill relinquishes, and I allow it for a moment longer before speaking again.

“It wasn’t just birds,” I say with interest. It must be my mother speaking for me. “It was a migration of owls. Hundreds of them.”

“Owls? It’s too early for your stories.” Her eyes remain closed.

“Do you know what this means?”

“No. Do you?” There’s a notable irritation in her voice.

“Well…no. But have you ever seen hundreds of birds of prey fly together in the same direction? It can’t be normal. There were a few eagle owls from the western foothills mixed in there. They had to have flown from the Plateau, or farther. They were all so dominant and elegant. Destriers of the sky, they are. Used in battle by the Old Races.” But as massive as these ones were, they’re half the size of what the stories depict.

“Great, Goose! It gives me chills just thinking about it,” she mocks. “Who are you?”

“Oh…Jay…you don’t have to call me Great Goose. I’m just an above average guy who has a vast amount of knowledge. Primarily on the history of battle. My father saw to that.”

A few remaining stragglers of the eruption leave sight, and with their departure, we decide to do the same. However, before I assist Jay in getting down from our lavish treehouse, I decide it wise to scout the area first. Whoever knocked on our door could be stalking us right now. And even if they’re not stalking us, we could just as easily stumble upon another predator and find ourselves in a predicament far worse than what it already is.

I hate to think about all the scenarios that could have played out with Stone and our visitor, so I don’t. I’m assuming the worst. I promised Stone four seasons ago if we ever came upon this moment, I would protect her. I gave him my word, and I won’t fall back on it. It doesn’t feel right to leave him behind, but that is why I fled without hesitation. Because of her. And my honor. It’s what my father would have done.

I stray several hundred paces to the west in silence and stumble upon a manmade object I’ve never come across in this wood before. We don’t wander this far north, so there isn’t reason for me to be familiar with it. But it’s still an odd sight. Two wooden rails run parallel to each other mounted along cross bars that are secured to the forest floor. They appear to be roots. Ironwood roots. Though, the contours are far too clean and intentional to be natural. These wooden rails were placed here by someone. Not that long ago, judging by the lack of overgrowth on and around them. There could be a labor camp nearby, which could be trouble for us. I shrug off the anomaly and head back in the direction where I left Jay stranded in the tree.

As I retrace my steps, another unnatural lump hidden within the undergrowth catches my attention. Not an ironwood rail. And not a fallen tree. I pause to investigate and find a body lying between several large sword ferns. A lifeless body. I bend down to take a closer look and discover another carcass adjacent to it, and then more. Dozens of bodies feed the undergrowth. Even more unnatural is the fact I don’t smell them. All carcasses rot. And all carcasses stink.

I ready my kukri and nudge one with the tip of my boot to make sure he isn’t alive. He doesn’t move. I get closer and place the