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

I stare blankly. “At the Redwood Chamber, four seasons past? You, Stone, Goose, Elder…and that damned regal beast of yours—can’t believe he’s alive after that duel. He was a handful. You thwarted that ironwood blockade with ease. Does that not ring a bell?”

“The…Woman-in-Red? You were there?” I utter, unable to suppress my thoughts. But I don’t care. Ellia is the Woman-in-Red. She was there with the Taoiseach the day we escaped the Redwood Chamber. The one that killed… “You killed Elder! You were there. You nearly killed Helios too! And you killed Elder!”

I rush her, not knowing what to do, but the rage, the hate, the fury inside me forces me to charge. Unarmed, I hit her stomach with my shoulder and wrap my hands around her, hoping to take her to the ground and degenerate her the way I did with that door.

She doesn’t fall to the ground as intended. Instead, she turns, slips my grip, grabs me by the wrist, and twists. My body spins with my arm and forces me to my knees. Ellia then unsheathes her claymore. In one swift motion, as if it had the weight of a reed, it falls across my wrist.

I hear a shriek, but I’m not sure of its source, as it sounds distant. Astor’s gentle touch keeps me from collapsing. She lowers me to the ground. Everything is numb. Fatigue finds me. I close my eyes.

“It’s handy to have a Sleeper sidekick,” a voice says.

My eyes flutter open as I attempt to gain clarity.

“Sidekick? You drive out the worst in me. There is nothing but hate in your heart. Sidekicks complement. And I don’t complement you at all. For Susy’s sake, I can’t even give you a compliment. And you are no heroine either.”

“Eh, true. I can’t stand having you around, but your talents are indeed helpful. I shall replace you with a new Hiberneyt in due time, I think.” Ellia stands over me, looking out over the ravine. “We’re wasting time. Why’d you put her down? You could’ve just kept her from screaming. Numbed her vocals or something.”

“I had to. You amputated her hand! She was going into shock. I had to do something.” Astor faces Ellia, standing over me as well, but not paying me any mind.

“Let her feel the pain. She had a fit of rage. She needs to learn. How is she going to learn if you immediately numb her of her senses? The more sacrifices we make, the more clarity we have on life. But we need to have our senses to find that clarity.”

“Sacrifice? There was nothing sacrificial about this.”

“There certainly was. She attacked me knowing there would be a consequence. She willingly made that choice. She just didn’t know her sacrifice would be an entire hand. I should have amputated your head as well. You were too hasty.”

“She’s awake!” Astor kneels over me and helps prop me into an upright position. “How do you feel?”

“Alive,” I grumble. Astor looks taken aback.

“See! She likes it. I did her well,” Ellia adds.

Trying to comprehend what happened, I raise my left arm. And that is all, just an arm. No digits, no fingernails, no hand. Just an arm. I attempt to close my fist. My head understands. My body reacts, and my muscles strain down to my fingertips, but there is nothing there. Just a bloody nub with an immaculate cut. I poke at it. The blood is petrified. The bone, the bone marrow, the sinew, and the vessels are wrapped in a blanket of flesh. I glide my fingers across the adjacent flesh, and it is rock hard. Frozen, just like the innards.

Ellia walks to the ledge and places her hand on a tree. “It’s a tall evergreen. A fir with a robust trunk,” Ellia proclaims. “It’ll make a fine bridge. One hand or two, it’ll be an easy one for you.”

Astor and I both look at her, dumbfounded.

“Come now. We’ve wasted too much time. This tree right here.” She pats the trunk. “Place your hands on it, palms wide—palm wide—you’re singular now, I suppose. Like you’re grasping a watermelon, or in the dragon queen’s case,” she gestures to Astor, “a pair of perky tits.”

A restrained laugh escapes me. I should be furious. Absolutely livid. Ellia took my left hand from me. Maybe the shock hasn’t worn off yet. Regardless, I find it amusing Ellia partakes in the lesbian jabs. I don’t believe she fancies women, nor would I care, but with how often she caresses my naked body, it is hard to resist the taunts.

Astor ignores Ellia’s nasty comment but instead shakes her head at me. We’re supposed to be a team. We’re both captives. But I like Ellia. She’s strong. She’s independent. A somberness weighs over me as Astor lowers her head. She doesn’t have to say anything. I know she’s right. I ought not make Astor the odd man out in this unusual trio of captives and captor. Only Susy knows what fate lies ahead of us. And, well, maybe Ellia. I lower my head and stare at my newly acquired nub. Ellia has taken my hand from me. Why would I laugh at a time like this?

I make eye contact with Astor and silently apologize. I don’t know if she grasps the gesture, but I dare not apologize out loud, for fear Ellia might react. I stand and obediently walk to Ellia’s tree.

She grabs my arm and inspects the damage she’s done. She gives a nod of approval. “You’ll survive. Now feel the tree. Not just physically, but mentally. Force your mind into it. Concentrate. Focus on the outer bark first. Feel how rough it is. Know the corrosive power of your touch can eat away at the bark.”

This is nothing new to me. I desperately want to comment on