Alessandra (#1, Omega Beginnings Miniseries)

Read Online Alessandra (#1, Omega Beginnings Miniseries) by Lizzy Ford - Free Book Online

Book: Alessandra (#1, Omega Beginnings Miniseries) by Lizzy Ford Read Free Book Online
Authors: Lizzy Ford
Tags: Magic, greek gods, Dystopian, oracle, gargoyle, Teen dystopian, teen fiction series
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Chapter One
     
    Twelve years ago
     
    The gargoyle was crying.
    Only I could see it.
    Later on in life, I would learn that the
ribbons I witnessed around everything were fields of energy, sparks
of magic and the flow of life, each with its own unique color
range. The world was filled with them. Inanimate objects had two
ribbons. People had three.
    At the age of five, all I really understood
was that the stone creature being tormented by teen boys was alive
– and hurting.
    “Leave him alone!” I shouted and ran towards
them.
    The boys faced me briefly and dismissed me
as quickly as most adults did. One of them wacked the gargoyle with
his bag, and its ear chipped off.
    Where a little girl wasn’t listened to, a
screaming kid generally was. “You’re hurting him!” I shrieked.
    “Hey! What’re you boys doing to her?” one of
the teachers called from the group of students touring the temple
nearby.
    One of the boys pushed me away. “You got us
in trouble, you stupid kid,” he snapped.
    “You boys should be with your group!” Mrs.
Thatcher approached and pointed to the other teens gathered around
one of the priestesses giving the tour. “You leave kindergartners
alone.”
    “We didn’t do nothing, Mrs. Thatcher,” one
of them protested.
    But they left, which was all I wanted. My
attention was fixated on the stone monster whose ear was broken in
half. The ribbons around him were agitated. Unlike most people, who
had three ribbons, there were four around this beast: purple, faded
teal, bright red and sunny yellow. The teal one sparkled in a way I
had never seen before. I didn’t know enough to understand what this
meant – aside from the fact he wasn’t like the other rocks and
stones in the world.
    I bent down and retrieved the cool limestone
piece of his ear. On tiptoes, I reached up to replace it. His ugly
face and large fangs were scary to me, but knowing he was in pain
trumped my fear. I struggled to reach the broken stone.
    “What’re you doing, Alessandra?” Mrs.
Thatcher asked, finished with the boys.
    “He’s hurt. I’m fixing him.”
    “You have such the imagination!”
    I rolled my eyes and rested my cheek against
that of the hideous statue. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” I
whispered to him.
    “Oh, his ear is broken.” Mrs. Thatcher took
the piece from me and replaced it. “Do you know what this is,
Alessandra?”
    “A gargoyle.”
    “No, Alessandra. You should’ve been paying
attention to the tour guide.”
    I watched anxiously as she balanced the part
of the ear back where it belonged. It wasn’t helping the creature’s
pain, and its suffering was moving into me. The ribbons of everyone
around me always reached out to me, as if I was supposed to do
something or know something about them. I could take those ribbons
and manipulate them, bring the unliving to life and fix those that
were hurt. I had even combined ribbons to create my own best
friend: a monster-like creation consisting of my cat and my
favorite stuffed animal. Its name was Mrs. Nettles. It purred and
looked like a koala.
    But I was too young to know why the ribbons
existed, how I alone saw them or what I was supposed to do, if not
bring my stuffies to life for tea parties.
    “Gargoyles have water spouts,” Mrs. Thatcher
told me. “This is a grotesque. It’s a statue monster. Can you say
grotesque?”
    I ignored her.
    “They’re here to protect the gods,” she
continued. “Do you see how large their eyes are?”
    While each was unique, every beast had
oversized wings, fangs and eyes. This one had eyes that were
different sizes, the mane of a lion and face of a panther, a long
tail, and wings like a dragon. He was larger, too, and facing the
wrong direction.
    Dozens of scary-faced stone monsters peered
over the edges of the rooftop on the Temple of Artemis at the heart
of Washington DC, glaring down at anyone who came to visit. Only my
monster looked inward, guarding the rooftop. This was my

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