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

on the tree. My body whips backward. Goose reacts by grabbing the first thing he can, which happens to be my oily brown locks.

“Argh!”

Fortunately, I’ve let grooming go to the wayside for the past four seasons, so its long enough for him to capture a nice big wad, which eases the pain as well.

“Stop crying, and be thankful my hands are quicker than a frog’s tongue, you wailer.” He grabs a fistful of my tunic to ensure I’m stable before letting go. “I’d wager to say you were hungry enough to eat a tiger’s rump to strike up the courage and climb this high for a lousy pear. And you only have one! What’s that all about? You know what my nana would say, ‘A pear solo and you’ll go rolo; a pear in pairs ignites your inner flares.’ You should always eat pears in twos, or you’ll end up rolling over into an early grave. It’s common folklore. My nana would be shaking her head at you.”

“Tell your nana I’m sorry. I was starving.”

“Good location for stalking.” Goose looks down to the undergrowth. In search of prey, I presume. “But if you’re going after pears, I take it you didn’t kill anything?”

I shrug. “You neither, huh?”

“Nope. Shall we spend the afternoon at the fishing hole? How you getting back down anyways?” Goose’s brow wrinkles, followed by a satisfied grin. “You can eat shit if you think I’m going to carry you back down. I’m no man’s ride. That’s what beasts are for.”

“Well… I didn’t think it all the way through. Hunger outperformed gravity. Until now.” High places make my knees shake, so yes, the hunger drove me past my better judgment for a single pear.

Goose will descend without a problem. He’s the type who grabs the bull by the horns and boasts to the beast how amazing he is while doing it. Plus, his fear of heights is nonexistent, unlike me.

“You’re a Sprhowt. Can’t you use your talent to get me down?” I ask with desperation lingering in my voice. I force a small branch into his face. “Here. Do your work, Greenthumb.”

“Phh. Yeah. Whatever.” He yanks it from my hands and lets it thwack me in the head. “I could, but that would be too easy and not nearly as fun as watching you try to climb down. I’ll see you on ground level. Wake me when you get there.” And he works his way back down the same way he came up.

Goose isn’t sophisticated enough to actually accomplish my request. That’s the true reason he mocks me. I’ve seen him enhance the growth of much smaller, less dense objects, but to extend a solid tree branch far enough to lower me to the ground would take the skills of somebody who attended the Academy. His knowledge of his talent is equivalent to mine. The only difference is I am willing to accept I know very little. I’m aware of my incompetence, fears, and the like. Maybe a little too much.

Since the incident four seasons ago, it seems as though all my fears have increased tenfold. All I want to do is protect Jay, but we picked the most dangerous location in the realm to lay low. Jay and I have been in debate over whether we should remain hidden, but I know it’s too soon to surface. The McLarin name is tainted. The Taoiseach has seen to that.

The Taoiseach gets complete blame for all of this. I wouldn’t be in this damned tree if it weren’t for his cruelty. It’s not possible my father, the Architect of Parliament and a descendant of The First Four, was involved in conspiring to create genocidal warfare amongst the other races. My parents were honorable with a strong family bond and good values. None of it adds up. Especially because their daughter was born in Autumn, which makes her a Dihkai. The thought that they would seek out annihilation of a race other than their own is not only irrational, it’s asinine. And what would stop future generations from birthing more Dihkai if all it takes is an autumnal birth. The seasons decide our race, or Susy if you’re of the faith., so it would have to be a quick slaughter of the masses to gain a shift in power. My parents didn’t have a strong enough motive.

The Taoiseach is the only one who knows the truth of my parents’ deaths. One day, maybe, I’ll find the truth behind everything, but for now, I need to find a way out of this tree.

If only I were a Sprhowt. Every branch would be a tool. Unfortunately, for this situation anyways, I’m a Lahyf. And the ability to heal won’t get me down. The hard way it is. A test of my courage and strength. I suppose I was able to get up here, even if my stomach was the driving force, so I know I can get down. I just need to find the drive.

I lower one leg, feeling around for the nearest branch. There it is. I plant both feet on it and carefully lower myself. Success. Again, I stretch a leg out to feel for the next one. Again, I plant both feet and lower myself. Success.

“This isn’t so bad,” I mumble aloud. I move for the next branch, find it, plant my feet, and a loud crack sounds. The branch gives out. I tumble headfirst, getting mauled by several branches on the way down. Unable to grab hold of any of them, I plunge until the ground breaks my fall. I gasp for air as it avoids my lungs. The pain is too much. I close my eyes.

I’m unsure how much time has passed when I come to. Squinting, I shade my eyes with my hand as the sun peers through the tiniest