Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1)

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Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Page 14

by Jonathan Michael


  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 compassion is. I’m not sure how Goose has offended you, but it was evidently unacceptable along with my own actions. Please understand we appreciate what you are doing for us. You’re our only hope at this point. We need you. Please…forgive us.”

  Stone stares at me, awaiting something more. I look to Astor, and she’s doing the same.

  “What?” I wipe my face and look down at my attire to see if something is amiss. “Oh…an apology.” They’re waiting for me to apologize too. “I’m sorry, Astor. Everything Stone said goes for me as well. I give you my word.”

  Astor’s expectant stare turns into more of a glower. Stone’s as well. Nero and Crescia stand back with delight as if the show must go on.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Astor mutters. She forces a smile. “Apologies accepted. Let’s continue.” She turns back to examine Jaymes with determination. “You’re sure there was no salve used on these wounds? This would be an odd substance for the body to excrete naturally.” She points at a pale-green, tacky substance covering the majority of the wounds. “It appears to be especially fibrous and pasty, like a plant. A salve.”

  I should speak up now. At this point, hiding it will only make matters worse for everyone. “It’s umm… well… I know it as Everweed, but I’m sure there’s a more accurate term for it.”

  Her mouth gapes open to say something, but Stone beats her to it. “Oh yeah, that damned magical plant. But he only applied it once. Early on. Right?” He looks to me for confirmation. I give none. “I don’t think it could have caused too much damage from the one dose. And it’s been cleaned since then.”

  “Did I hear you correctly?” Astor replies to me, not Stone. “You said ‘Everweed’?” Her last word comes out as a whisper.

  “Yes, Miss Astor. It’s a hybrid of aloe and clover. From the tales.” A gross feeling wells inside me. I’ve been dishonest. Is this guilt?

  “You’ve got it wrong.” Her tongue is sharp. “Everweed is a hybrid of aloe and thyme. The thyme contains natural oils preventing bacterial growth and infection. The aloe soothes the skin and minimizes scar tissue. It’s a topical salve for flesh wounds. Not deep lacerations. Where did you find it?”

  “So you’ve heard of it? It’s real then?” Stone asks in disbelief. “I still don’t believe one application could have this impact. Can you heal it?”

  “Yes.” Her response sounds like more of a question. “And yes, I’ve heard of it, but only in stories, same as you. I haven’t a clue as to its whereabouts or the truth behind it.” Astor gives me an intense look. “I must look at the facts. Goose…there are no records of hybrid cure-all plants. I studied botany while enrolled at the Academy. The plant you’ve been applying is probably a common clover.”

  “Okay, so it’s not Everweed,” Stone comments, “but it was only a one-time dose, so I don’t see why that matters.”

  “H
er current condition is my fault,” I admit. I ball my fists together.

  “Not necessarily, but you definitely slowed the healing process. Stone says only once, but the evidence suggests otherwise. How long have you been applying this salve?” She waits patiently for the answer.

  I turn away, avoiding her eyes, and Stone’s. But only to meet Nero and Crescia’s stone gazes instead.

  “Twice a day, for a score of days.” I confess, not turning to see either of their responses.

  “Oh my,” Astor gasps. “I believe that explains why Stone’s attempts at healing have never progressed. My personal experience, you should always rely on a Lahyf before resorting to antiquated medicinal practices. They have their time and place, such as this village, but a Lahyf’s talent is natural. And better suited for the task.”

  “What can you do to fix it…” my voice trails off as I look at Stone. His eyes are like precisely targeted arrows and I patiently wait for the bowstring to release, knowing I cannot outrun this.

  “What did you say?” I recoil at the sudden shouting as Stone erupts. “Why? Why would you lie? You’ve been applying that slop since the incident? Goose…we discussed this when you first showed me the plant. It didn’t work then, and we agreed to let me handle the healing. What were you thinking? This whole time I could’ve been improving her condition, and you’ve made matters worse. Now, the infection is far enough along that it is beyond my capabilities and probably anyone’s for a hundred leagues.”

  “Stone…I didn’t know. I thought it…I thought it had to work.”

  “Since when is magic real, Goose? Relying on some fabled plant when she had a Healer right in front of her. You’re damn right you didn’t know. That’s why I told you not to use it. Get out, and go pretend to save some other damsel in distress. I can’t afford to risk any more of your ridiculous attempts at heroism. They only end in failure. My sister is in a fatal state now. You’ve done enough. Get out!”

  I slink my head into my shoulders like a turtle hiding from danger. Some hero. My stomach feels as though it’s going to uproot all over Astor’s floor. The guilt and shame is overwhelming. My thoughts drift to my father… I take a deep breath, trying to keep calm and hold back the disembowelment of my insides, so I don’t have two sets of glaring eyes stabbing me in the heart.

  “I care for her too, Stone! She may not be blood, but I’ve been giving her advice, aiding her whenever she calls for it, and watching her grow into a woman for the past four seasons. You act like I have no feelings for her, but I do. It means just as much to me to save her life as it does for you. The three of us are a family, and it’s the only family we have remaining.” It’s my fault, though. I led him into this situation with my stubborn, unmoving decision. She may be like a sister to me, but she isn’t my responsibility. She’s not my family. Despite my claims, I don’t have a family. Not after having abandoned my father. I turn and trudge toward the exit. “Stone, I didn’t know…”

  Without a destination, I meander through town. I pass a small graveyard that draws me to peruse it further. It’s larger than it should be for such a small village. The delta must take a lot of lives from the mothers and children of this town. Life can be too short for some. It makes it hard to make a difference in this world with such little time.

  Several graves are fresh with the soil turned recently. Curious, I take a closer look. The dates on the headstones are ancient. Some more than a century ago. Why do they turn the soil?

  I move on, trudging past the piers. The day is getting late and several fishing vessels have returned to port. Fishermen are bartering with traveling merchants. Their deckhands tend to their vessels, and the pillow girls are hanging out the windows of the local inn. They all have a purpose. They have a place to be. What is my next move?

  I naturally gawk at the upper windows of the inn. The pillow girls are flaunting their goods toward the piers, awaiting the crews to finish up. Tempting. A destination decided on. I put my hand on the iron handle and open the door.

  “Mr. Greyson?”

  I slink down, let go of the handle, and let the door slam shut, drawing even more attention to myself than whoever’s calling out my name. I slump against the wall of the inn, trying to look casual and look for the speaker.

  “Mr. Greyson?”

  My nerves calm as I see who the speaker is. “Advocate Gunther.” I call back quietly. “Please, please.” I gesture for him to lower his voice. “I’d rather not have any attention drawn to me.”

  “Oh, right! My apologies.”

  “Thanks again for your assistance today. I have a good feeling about Astor.”

  “As you should. She has her reasons. Poor child.”

  “Reasons?”

  “An incident when she was an adolescent has sent her whirling into a deep commitment to help others. It’s her life aspiration now. To see that no others must suffer her fate. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say anymore. It is not mine to share. But I will tell you it is no thanks to that darned tyrant who holds us hostage under his Dihkaian powers.”

  “The Taoiseach,” I mutter. His grip extends throughout the realm. What business does he have tormenting the townsfolk of a small fishing village? They work hard for their keep, yet he reaches into their pockets and ensures they’re aware of his presence. And he’s the reason my father made the choices he did. He’s the reason I fled from my life in the capital. The Taoiseach is the tyrant everyone makes him out to be. The realm needs to be rid of him for good. But how do you overcome a man who’s said to be immortal? “Tell me more of this Old Lady Windblown and her wisdom she possesses…”

  An inkling of a grin and cautious eyes sweep over Gunther’s face.

  Inception of a belief beyond mankind began on this thirty-some thousandth day of our expedition. Not that anyone is counting anymore. A story of a man greater and more powerful than all others lives among us. A nameless man who not only has the talent of the four races, but has power beyond that of any man. But their belief lacks faith. They desire truths. Trust is no longer earned. It has been extinguished altogether.

  13 Jaymes

  C hill creeps under my skin, and ironically, a warmth surrounds my body. Water flows all around me, past me, as I rush through the…warm…red waters of the Scarlet… Naked! I thrash at the water, trying to get to the bank, but no matter how hard I stroke, my arms won’t get me there. I calm and let the icy warmth engulf me, but the serenity doesn’t last long. As I gaze downriver, I see an end to the horizon. It stops. The river, the bank, the trees…it just…disappears…into an open, cloudless, blue sky. Yet, I don’t panic. Somehow, I know. I know it will be okay. I drift closer to the edge and watch as the red waters dissipate into nothing. Am I going to dissipate into nothing too? No. Somehow, I know. I know it will be okay. I cross over the edge where everything turns to nothing, and I am suddenly weightless.

  “It’s okay, Jay.” A whisper sounds in my ear. “You’re okay.”

  “Mother.” She embraces me as we float through the nothing. “Where are we?” I try to pull away and look her in the eyes, but she squeezes and holds me firmly in her arms. “Mother, please.” I cannot escape her grasp, and she refuses to let go, so I acquiesce. I am suddenly aware of the lacerations my body has endured. They throb with pain as if I’m being pounded with a wooden blade.

  “You’re okay, Jay.”

  My mother’s embrace is comforting. And it feels as though she uses her Talents to heal me. Is that possible? Can a Lahyf spirit heal the living? Am I living? Where am I?

  “Mother?” My voice is the softest of whispers.

  “Don’t be afraid…” She lets go, and gravity steals away my weightlessness. My heart stops. My flesh presses into my bones from the increasing velocity. There is nothing below me. Nothing in sight, and I continue to fall. The blue sky all around me fades into a grey one. Cloudless but lacking color. It continues to get darker and darker until I find myself in a starless night. Nothing.

  Then, a soft cotton reside
s underneath me. A cloud, perhaps?

  I realize my eyes are closed. Another haunting dream. I cherish them, but…the terror they evoke within me…

  The darkness fades, and there is a young woman standing over me with her hands placed upon my abdomen. Her almost white hair is pulled back into a tight braid, giving full visual of the emotions strewn across her face. She has a wide smile, and her silver-grey eyes appear to be delighted. Delighted about what? I sink back into the cotton and realize I’m still naked. I thought that was merely a dream.

  The reality of the situation strikes me. “I’m naked! What in Susy’s name…” I sit up with a start and cringe as a searing pain spreads throughout my body, nearly causing me to collapse back into the pillow. I try to conceal it, but a violent wince escapes me. I throw my arms across my chest and cross my legs, doing my best to protect myself as I squirm backward. I place a plush pillow over my lap.

  Amidst my panic I realize how nice this pillow is. I should swipe it when I ditch this place.

  “Who are you, and why are you feeling on me? I’m not into ladies, you know. What’s going on?”

  “There is no need to be alarmed. I’m Astor Greyheart, Greenport’s local healer. Well…not a true Healer, but a healer of sorts.”

  “A Healer? Why am I naked, then?” Another shot of pain reaches deep within me, so I gently rub at it. “Are you one of those dragon queens who kidnaps young maidens for your own pleasure? I’ve heard your kind does the unimaginable. Then, you sell off the girls after you’ve abused them beyond your own boredom. For a less than an adequate price for someone of my caliber, I might add. I’m not judging, I’m just saying, keep it out of me or I’ll lop it off. If you come near me, you’ll regret it. Where are my clothes?”

  “Dra-dragon queen?” She retreats a few steps, aghast. “W-why? Why would you…?”

  “You’re beautiful. Don’t let me crush your ego, but I’m not into it. Can I have my clothes, please?”

  “Please. Please, calm down. I’m nothing of the sort. I would never abuse a charge. I’m not a carnal merchant and am frightened at the thought of slavery. I would never do such things. I’m no dragon queen. What you say is shocking and offensive. But…” She pauses with a sigh. “I understand your state of emotions right now, so I will discount your accusations. I promise I am here to help.” She tosses me an extra linen, not chancing what might happen if she gets too close. “Cover up.”

 

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