Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖

to cross the crossing. Ugh…why don’t they build a bridge? I would, but that damned ape won’t let me close to his tree. And there isn’t another tree close enough to the ravine to span the distance. I’ve checked.

The figs remain plentiful on Coloss’ tree, and his kin are gallivanting amongst it. It brings me back to my childhood when my friends and I would climb the irrigation windmills. We would race to the top, weaving in and out of the blockades, and the first to touch a blade of the windmill was the winner. If my father had ever found out, the punishment would have been severe. The apes differ in that they live a life free of responsibility and caution. They enjoy simple pleasures and have nothing to fear with the dominance of Coloss protecting them.

Coloss, however, doesn’t join in. He’s a solid, dark, immobile figure planted in the tree. He stares into oblivion, pondering and unaware of his surroundings, but my instincts tell me he is acutely aware of everything around him. The whites of his eyes shift, and he calmly looks at me. I don’t know how he does it. A hardened branch in a gentle wind would create more movement than I am right now, but somehow, he knows I’m sitting here watching. Somehow, he knows I am watching him specifically.

I hear a voice but not with my ears. It’s more of an unusual sensation that I, by some means, translate into the remnants of syllables. I can’t quite make out what it’s saying or where it’s coming from. Maybe I’m spending too much time with Chief Graytu. Soon I’ll be talking to the squirrels.

I remain on my perch for some time, observing the simians while they enjoy themselves, and I ponder the possibilities—dreading every moment of it.

A tree…soft on the inside…hard on the outside, he said. More like hard on the inside and soft on the outside, I would think. A tree is rigid and stout but giving with its bountiful fruit. Like the fig tree down below. Parallel to the Redcliffe villagers. Coincidence? They have a solid culture, strong and resilient, but they are so generous and nourishing. But how does it tie to the crossing?

And Coloss? He and his tree have something to do with getting to the top of that damned wall, but what? Coloss won’t let me touch the tree, and besides that, it isn’t near large enough to reach the top of the wall. Only the Sprhowts of the Old Races had the ability to manipulate an entire tree to grow so tall. Maybe that’s why Graytu thinks me capable. Because I’m a Sprhowt. Could it be he believes I have the potential of the Old Races? The worthy? I need to get closer to Coloss. My instincts tell me he’s the only way I’ll find out.

The villagers are strong and nourishing; the fig tree is strong and nourishing; the simians are strong and nourishing. A trend.

I retreat to the village and use one of their many living ladders to gain access. Then I head straight for Fairview’s hollow.

“Eh…eh…excuse me, Lady Fairview,” I stutter between my heavy breathing.

“Lady, I’m not. It’s just Fairview, thank you.” She looks up at me with delight. “I must have pleased Susy to deserve two visits from my favorite drifter in one day. What’s the rush, young man? Have you lost your way?”

“I think we both know I’ve lost my way. I don’t mean to interrupt, but…I know…” I take a pause to catch my breath.

“You know what? I am pleased to have your company, but spit it out. My seasons are steadily coming to an end, and the children here don’t have the patience.” All the children sit with their legs crossed and necks twisted to see who’s responsible for the interruption.

“I know you have already been so kind and generous to me, but can I ask a favor of you?”

“Of course. You need not request permission. I may be old and cranky, but my heart hasn’t shriveled into a black prune. Of course, I’ll help you. What do you need, Goose?”

“I need to get my hands on another tray of fruit and nuts.”

“Ha. Is that all? We have plenty of that around here. In fact, the grove isn’t too far. The trees are well fertilized and abundant with a variety of fruits and the like. Anytime. Gather what you desire. It’s free for the taking.”

“Thank you so much, Fairview. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. Children, who does our hurried friend here owe?”

“Azure!” Several children call out at once while a handful of others call out the name Susy.

“To claim it as our own would be naïve and selfish,” Fairview continues. “We understand Azure has been generous enough to provide it to us. And by ‘us,’ I mean all the inhabitants of this world. Please, go and nourish yourself as you desire. You owe Susy for the seasons and Azure for the nourishment. They are the ones who have blessed us with the nourishing soils and healthy orchards.”

“Thank you for informing me, then,” I reply, unconvinced of the matter.

“You are very welcome, lad.”

I turn to dash away but realize I have no clue as to its whereabouts. “Umm…one more thing, Fairview…”

“Take the arborcar. Zoie will guide you. She’s already come about looking for you. I’m sure she’d be delighted to show you the way.”

“Thank you again.”

Zoie is easy to find. A quick dash to the range, and there she is.

“You know there’s such a thing as too much practice,” I say as she’s loosing her arrow. She doesn’t flinch as I intend. The watermelon dressed in antlers is pierced directly in the center. “Nicely done.”

“I don’t miss,” she retorts while giving me a solid thump in the gut with the butt of her bow.