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

bit as those not here merely to make money, or take it, are all heading back to their place in the stands. Amongst the remaining crowd, I notice Master Stormwood in the distance. He’s a hard one to miss with his flamboyant locks. Somehow, it doesn’t take away from his masculine and respectable gait. He’s intimidating. I hesitantly meander closer with my head down, unconfident about what I will say to him, but I need to address it. I fear I will come across too apologetic because he’ll see it as a weakness. Somehow, with false rumors spreading, I must show my respect without making too big of a deal about it.

Ten paces away, I realize he chats with a man much more intimidating than he is. Iron Valour stands by his side. Both have intense expressions on their faces when they look up to see me approaching. Master Stormwood says nothing to me. He gives me a quizzical look and gestures for Iron Valour to return to the battlefield. Then, he follows behind him. I suppose I was interrupting.

“Did I miss anything?” I ask when I return to my seat.

“What’s there to miss? More bashings, thieving, and murders?”

“You know, Astor, there’s more to this sport than just the physical brutality.” My words come out more scathing than intended. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“Like what?” Her tone is obvious. She is unconvinced and uninterested.

“Like the strategy. I don’t think they intended to get bruised the way they did at the beginning, but they were patient. They didn’t just sprint out and grab the ironball because they weren’t prepared to protect it. They were patient and built up their defenses before making an offensive move. Albeit, they kind of destroyed their opportunity to defend it, but you’ll see. They’ll get another opportunity when they return to action. All the great squads have a strategic plan in place, and the bashings and murders are just a bonus. Plus, they have Healers too. Maybe you ought to focus on that.”

“Well…I suppose you’re right, but it sure seems like they highly promote the blood and violence.”

“Not everyone has the same perspective as you, you know. They’re just giving the people what they like. Pleasing the crowd, gaining their love and obedience. It goes a long way when you’re down and the crowd is chanting for your success. The mob gives them motivation. Besides, you can’t have healing without a little blood. You could probably learn a thing or two with the severity of wounds they’ll patch up.”

“Oh, lay off it. You’re so full of it right now.” Astor slugs me in the ribcage. “Oh, sorry,” she immediately apologizes. “This blood sport must be having an effect on me.”

After the ejecting petrification, the remainder of the match wasn’t nearly as violent. Still exciting with several feuds: a few limbs were amputated, only to be re-grown—Astor enjoyed that. No more arbor beasts made an appearance, unfortunately because that was some impressive use of talents, and one guy was nearly decapitated—legally, according to the rules of the sport—and it left the crowd anticipating more. The Iron Eagles managed to secure the ironball without losing it for the remainder of the battle and won sixteen clicks to six. By the end of it, Astor appeared exhausted. Doubtful she would ever return for another match, I was persistent in sticking around to the end even though we knew the Iron Eagles secured the victory.

“Now what?” Astor blurts out with enthusiasm.

My brow turns upward as I ogle her. Only a moment ago she appeared as if this evening were coming to a rapid conclusion.

“Let’s do something fun,” she adds.

“That wasn’t fun?”

“Of course it was, but let’s have more fun. I know!” Astor’s eyes light up. “Follow me.” She grabs my hand and tugs without waiting for a response. I promptly follow to avoid being dragged.

Astor nimbly weasels in and out of the exiting crowd. Just as we’re about to leave the arena, I come to a jarring halt. Astor’s hand breaks away, and she nearly dumps forward. She looks back, wondering why I’ve stopped. She follows my line of sight and, through the billowing crowd, sees my sister standing down the way. I look to Astor, and she simply nods.

“I’ll find you later,” I say. She understands. An abrupt end to an entertaining evening, but she understands. There is sorrow in her eyes as she retreats into the crowd. “I’m sorry!” I yell. But I don’t think she hears me. With my sister in sight, I don’t dwell on it.

Jaymes has retreated into the shadow of the arena. Her petite frame hardly visible with the charcoal-grey cloak she dons. There’s an intimidating presence about her. If I didn’t know her, I wouldn’t go near her. She carries the aura of something more threatening than the thieves patrolling the crowd. In fact, most of the crowd gives her a wide berth, careful not to get too close to where she’s perched against the arena wall.

She waits for me to come to her. I half expect her to run. I’m not sure exactly why. Maybe because I haven’t been hunting her down as I should have, maybe because she is her own woman now and would prefer it to stay that way. I’m not sure, but there is a consternation about her.

“Stone,” she utters in almost a whisper.

She eludes to a hug but pulls back. I don’t. I grab her and squeeze. I hold on until she attempts to break away.

“Jay. I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t know how to… I was trying to find a way, but I didn’t know what to do. I knew you were safe. Or, not in serious danger. But I didn’t know how to get to you. I’m sorry I let this happen.”

“You don’t have to do that, Stone,” she carps.

“What?”

“Treat me