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

worth, I calm and let him hold me. It’s not in me to let him off that easy, though. Not without at least a jabbing rebuttal. “We haven’t seen a Lost Soul in the four seasons we’ve been suppressed to this wood. I doubt they even exist. Plus, your shot needs a target bigger than that. Not likely you’ll come back with anything that doesn’t have scales.”

As a last hope, I look to my brother for a second opinion. “Stone?” He merely shrugs his shoulders. “Fine! If mother…” I shove Goose away and give him a piercing glare, “…and father…” I look to Stone, “…say so, I suppose the decision is final.” I don’t need their approval. I’ve got my slingshot. I can kill my own meal.

“And that’s another reason why you’re not welcome,” Goose testifies and points down to the mess of berries I created. “You have no patience for the game. You’d scare off anything worth killing before it was in sight. You can’t go, Jaymes.”

“And you know what patience is?” I scoff at him. “Your entire world is an impulse.”

Goose steps toward me with a raised finger. “And impulse is exactly what you need when coming eye to eye with a creature that can tear you apart in less than a click. A bull doesn’t welcome hesitation. You would have to do the same.” His hand snaps forward and flicks me in the forehead.

I clench my jaw and glare at him. It takes all I have to refrain from giving him a bloody lip.

“You need to act on instinct, not thought. Even Stone struggles with this.”

“He’s right,” adds Stone. “Wait! What?” Stone’s gaze darts to Goose, but he moves on with his lecture. We’ve both learned to disregard Goose’s arrogance because it’s a losing battle every time we challenge it. “Plus, Jay, you have your own duties to attend to. You know we need to refuel the lanterns. It’s not a trivial task, Jay. Please, let’s just stick to the routine and we’ll all meet back here prior to twilight.”

“It’s not fair that I have to go collect berries and catch bugs,” I mutter under my breath. “Those are childish tasks. I can serve a better purpose.”

“Jay, you already are serving a good purpose.” Goose smirks. “You’re executing the tasks we don’t want to.”

I grab the haversack from the floor and throw it at him. I would have slugged him, but I know better. I’m a Gloomer that struggles with controlling my talent. Especially when I’m as enraged as this. And I don’t want to inflict permanent damage.

“Goose!” Stone elbows him. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“My apologies, great leader.”

“I’m not your leader.” Stone quails behind those words. He acts as the great protector, but when either Goose or I acknowledge it, he hides like a turtle. Except he doesn’t have a shell to hide in, so it just gets awkward.

Goose continues, “I only speak the truth. I’m too talented and skilled to be executing such insignificant tasks.” I swing my leg out to kick him in the shin, but he easily evades it. “It’s okay, Jay, the world needs people like you. Somebody has to perform the menial tasks. It keeps the rest of us sane.”

“Whatever.” I snatch my haversack at his feet and storm out the door. I don’t want to hear another word from him. He knows too easily how to infuriate me. I just want to… I just want to do more.

I follow a tight game trail through a thicket to where the raspberry bushes grow. I have to replace what I lost before ending the evening with catching bugs. Goose is right. They only let me handle the duties they’re too lazy to do themselves. They put themselves above me and think me a child. Well I’m not. We’ve been living this life of solitude together, but I’m more independent than they think. I don’t need them. This is all Goose’s fault. Why does he taunt me the way he does?

Pondering Goose’s comment, I make an impulse decision to ruffle the dogwood shrubs in the area while gathering. Not my typical routine, but I figure I can stir some thunderbugs while I’m out here. As early as it is, they’ll be difficult to see with a lackluster glow, but still visible. I failed to check the lanterns before I stormed out, but a few dozen ought to be sufficient for the night. They’re far more important than gathering the berries. And if I can get my quota quick enough, I’ll have time to do some hunting of my own. Forget gathering.

While rifling through the thicket, I wince as my legs are being abused by the underbrush, but I push through it. It’s not the first time I’ve made the poor decision to go scavenging in my thigh-high cutoff trousers and a sleeveless tunic. I’ve grown to accept the thrashings from the bush because the heat is far more taxing.

“Gotcha!” I snag a pair of the electrified bugs with the net I retrieved from my sack. I’m lucky I didn’t leave the net behind during my frenzy to get away from Goose. I always pack a few jars, a net, and my slingshot, and I check the contents of my haversack before I leave. But Goose, that asshole, had me so eager to flee the scene. “Argh!” I let out a wale of frustration as I dig through the sack. I shuffle past the slingshot and pull out the only jar to secure the thunderbugs.

Four more thunderbugs take flight. An excited bounce invades my step. Big ones. The bigger flesh burners have a longer lasting and more brilliant glow. Unfortunately, they also have a potent smell of burning flesh. My net flies and I snag all four in one swipe. Carefully, I trap them in the jar while avoiding escapees.

Still distracted by the morning’s conflict,