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

The door swings open, and in steps a woman in midnight red. She’s armed with a kukri in one hand and a fukiya, a style of blowgun often wielded by assassins, in the other hand. A large pommel rising over her shoulder reveals a large sword strapped to her back. Her iridescent armored-silk uniform looks official. A uniform from the Academy, perhaps? The only feature appearing noncompliant is the flesh it reveals. The cross-sash is so tight across her chest she might as well not wear a top at all.

Her long, dark hair is pulled in a tight ponytail, and she wears a weaved bandana the same color as her uniform folded up, concealing one eye. There’s something familiar about her.

She ignores Helios as if he’s a yapping town dog. If a hostile, full-grown tiger doesn’t concern her, she’s either a half-wit or she’s going to kill me.

She scans the common room, seeing nothing of concern because there’s nothing to see except radial walls, a couple tables, and a basin. She steps in my direction with flowing curves and silent feet. Behind her, Helios prepares to pounce. I have to do something, but what? She’ll kill him if he attempts anything.

Not knowing what else to do, I step out from my pitiful hiding place.

“Helios, hold!” I call with a stern tone. What I really want to do is scream and run. He retreats onto his hind legs with uncertainty, unable to sit still, his jowl curled. “Hi. I’m eh…” I need a name. Not my own. That would be ludicrous. A name. Whose? “Eh…Elder. Elder Alderock,” I say with a squeak in my throat. And I find myself displeased with such an awful choice. My childhood best friend! It’s all I could think of. I don’t deserve his name. Not after what I did. A flood of guilt courses through me.

She cocks her head, and her one visible eyebrow raises high into her forehead. Oh no. What did I say?

“Uh… Um… This is quite a surprise. I don’t get company. Ever. Can I help you?”

I approach her with an outstretched arm in a welcoming manner, hoping I appear ignorant. I need to distract her long enough for Goose and Jay to get a decent lead.

“Are you the only one residing here?” she probes.

Her eyes, or one eye rather, is murderous, and her assertiveness demands attention. My first impression is intimidation, but I also sense a familiarity about her.

“No name?” Play stupid. “You must either have a sad story or one of infinite tales to not have a name. I’d guess the latter.”

“My name is of no concern to you,” she snaps and repeats herself. “Are you the only one residing here?”

“Typically, the name of anyone who enters my home is a concern of mine, but I have a hunch I shouldn’t ask you again, so I believe you. Your name is of no concern to me.” I can’t keep a nervous grin from appearing on my lips. “The answer is no, I’m not the only one who lives here.” I stop there and don’t give her any more information. I respectfully answered her, so hopefully it doesn’t result in me losing my head. I need to draw out this conversation. And try not to get murdered in the process.

“Well?”

“What?” A dart is going to pierce my skull any moment. I know it.

“Don’t test my patience. Who else lives with you?”

“Oh, of course. Helios does.”

“The tiger?”

“Yes. He’s a great companion. Ancient for a tiger, but that doesn’t stop the two of us from having some bard-worthy adventures. I acquired him when he was just a cub, so we’ve been through much together. We have heroic tales, tales that put us red in the cheeks, knee-slappers, tear-jerkers, all kinds of tales. Would you like to hear one of them over breakfast? I’m a great storyteller.” That’s a lie. Just ask Jay. I know nothing of suspense. I drag on about boring details. And I’m predictable. What am I saying anyways? Words pour from my mouth like spilt milk, splattering all over, making a mess. I can’t tell if it’s fear or a protective instinct that drives me to act this way.

“No,” she replies sharply.

I better cool the nonchalance before I test her patience.

“I’m not interested in the tiger. I am searching for a young girl. Your age or younger.”

“Do you have a name? Of the girl, I mean. Not your name. We’ve already established it’s of no concern to me.” My voice shakes, and sweat builds on my brow. I give an awkward half-smile. She has to know a lie is going to come next.

“Jaymes McLarin, of the McLarin family. You’ve heard the name, no doubt. That is, if you ever get out of this hole you live in.” She scans the room with her lip curled. A show of disgust. “She’s the fugitive wanted for murdering her parents.” Her gaze narrows. “The two executed for conspiring genocidal warfare. You must know of them. They had plans to usurp the Taoiseach. I seek a word with their daughter.”

My blood boils when the horrendous lies explode off her tongue. “Does all of Vedora really believe that?” I think aloud, regretting it instantly. I close my eyes, as if deep in thought, but truly, I just need to breathe to keep my composure. “Seems far-fetched if you ask me, but you didn’t.” I catch her gaze again and look away before it petrifies me. “Sure, I’ve heard of her. And her parents. But wasn’t there more to the story? Wasn’t there more than just one of them? And hasn’t it been several seasons since that incident? I’d have pronounced them deceased by now. Do you have reason to believe she’s in the area?”

She cocks her head