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

stare in astonishment. So she knows our story. And she helps regardless. A small weight lifts, accompanied by an appreciative grin. Chasing lies is no different than swatting flies. When you attempt to squash one, it buzzes about without remorse, seemingly multiplying, eating away at your sanity. When you leave it be, eventually you find it lying dead and forgotten. Maybe our fly is dead and forgotten. Though it’s a rather large and dark one, unlike those little white ones. What do they call them—no-see-ems?

Stone rushes to Jay’s side. “She’s alive. Thank Susy. How is she?”

“I need a moment to assess the damage. If you could…” She gestures for Stone to take a step back. With much hesitance, he acquiesces.

“Thanks for not sharing your ride,” I say to Stone. “How’d you do it?” We clasp arms, and I lean in to pat him on the back.

“It’s good to see you too, Goose,” Stone replies with a smile and a deep sigh. “Thank you. For taking care of her.”

“Mm. Something smells delicious.” Astor interjects. “Did you bring some of Abbey’s renowned strawberry sardine shortcake?” Her head curls over her shoulder.

Stone’s brow wrinkles. “Huh?”

I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment, but I’m certain I don’t smell like fish. I lift my nose to Stone and sniff.

“I just came from the comfort of a long, overdue bath,” Stone states with a careless grin on his face.

“Well, you smell lovely,” she says as she continues to examine Jay. “And if you haven’t had the opportunity, you most definitely cannot pass it up while in town. No matter how well I describe it, the sardines will have you pleasantly surprised.”

“Noted. It sounds pleasantly awful, but we may have a go at it before we depart,” Stone replies.

“Oh, and my apologies for not properly introducing my assistants.” She pulls away from Jaymes. “Crescia.” She gestures to the tall, dark woman. “And Nero.” She waves an open hand at the disciple. “They’re apprentices of mine. Not that I’m a master by any means, but the locals have little to do with their talents around here. I’m the only villager who’s formally trained at the Academy.” She leaves the introduction at that and goes back to tending Jaymes.

Nero plays the part of a disciple well, donning a pure white cassock lined with pale-blue silk and seasonal embroideries along the collar and hem. Crescia, on the contrary, looks the part of a working girl, wearing her serving attire—a knee-length, black, cotton dress trimmed with grey lace. I know not all of Greenport’s fishermen label Greenport home. And those who don’t, often contract serving girls while moored.  I wonder if she spends her evenings at Abbey’s Alehouse. She’s certainly pleasant to stare upon. She smiles, and I greet her in return with solid eye contact and a gentleman’s nod.

“Oh my. This is dire,” Astor says softly after unraveling Jaymes’s bandages. “What type of salve have you been applying to these wounds? It doesn’t look familiar to me.”

“Salve?” Stone looks at me with a pensive expression. “We haven’t been applying any salve to it. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” There’s doubt in his voice.

Astor’s head, still lowered from examining Jay, turns to look over her shoulder. Her mouth is downturned.

Stone’s clearly under duress with the current situation, and although he may have worded the question with an offensive demeanor, it wasn’t intended to be.

“Yes, I know what I’m doing.” Her response is abrasive.

Maybe I should speak up.

“You know what? I’m not even sure I’m willing to continue with this, the way you and Goose so rudely barge into my life and think you can ridicule me. Both of you at some point have abused the kind respect that a charitable acquaintance deserves. I am trying to help, and I grow tired of being treated like a villain. I understand you have reasons to be wary, but it needs to stop.” She takes a slight pause to catch a breath then continues. “I apologize. I’m not usually so obtrusive, but this family has taken its toll on me. I’m not accustomed to so much rude behavior. Most of my charges are fishermen who are well known to me and treat me as they wish to be treated. I don’t enjoy the wicked thoughts you’re causing me to have, and this may be the last time I treat a drifter lingering in town. Now, I would like for each one of you to apologize, or I am done here.”

The two of us stare at her in silence for a moment. Stone appears to be ashamed of his own behavior, but me, I don’t have anything to be sorry for. The silence leaves me uncomfortable, so I break it, foolishly.

“Well…don’t everyone speak up at once,” I say to lighten the tension. It doesn’t work.

“Get out!”

Oops. I guess that wasn’t the correct response.

“I’m sorry,” we say in harmony. Both Stone and I manage a whisper of an apology and nothing more. Astor looks at us scornfully. She can’t be much older, if at all, than me or Stone, but I feel like I am apologizing to my mother who’s forcing us to own up to stealing some apple fritters.

“That’s a feeble attempt at an apology if I must say. If I didn’t have so much passion for helping the needy, I would force you out of my home immediately.”

“Astor.” Stone interjects and takes a long pause. “Astor, please accept my apology…both of our apologies. I prefer not to conjure excuses, but we have been…well…hiding from civilization for a long time now. As you know. For good reason, I might add. And we’re rusty at interacting with anyone but each other. We’re a tight-knit family, the three of us, which best communicates with banter and sarcasm, and I see now we’ve forgotten what genuine