Read Online Beauties of the Beast (The Yellow Hoods, #4): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale by Adam Dreece - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Adam Dreece
Ads: Link
can’t?” asked Franklin, shifting from foot to foot nervously.
“Then I’ll get the plans out of you, then have you buried,” said Simon with a twisted smile. “And I’ll allow your friends to live, either way.”
Franklin swallowed hard. “Okay, deal.”
CHAPTER NINE
Dragon and Fox
Two and a half year-old Richy ran as fast as he could, in and out of the bushes and small trees of their yard, his older sister hot on his trail.
“I’m going to get you!” yelled eight-year-old Amami happily. She had a leafy stick of bamboo between her legs, a floppy black cloth tied around her neck, and a toy sword in her rope belt. “You’ll never get away, Dragon! I will catch you!”
Richy squealed. “No, Fox! No, you not!”
As he tore past his father, the grey haired man smiled. He’d been gardening for hours, and couldn’t get enough of it. His memories of life in Inglea had faded to the point of feeling like stories that had been told to him, rather than ones he’d lived. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Amami and tucked his head down. Amami let go of the bamboo stick, planted her hands on his back, flipped over him, landed, and continued, never having broken her rhythm. He bent down to pick up his hat and her stick. “Where do you get that from, Amy?” he wondered.
His wife, Tsuruko, shook her head. She didn’t approve of letting Amami do such things. She found them disrespectful, but she knew there was no coming between a father and daughter.
“Careful Amy!” he yelled, earning a nod from his wife.
“You too, Riichi. Right, Everett?” added Tsuruko.
“Yes, you too, Richy,” he replied with a smile. He’d never managed to get the hang of pronouncing Richy’s name properly, but Tsuruko didn’t seem to mind his Ingleash version.
“Sorry, Daddy! But I’m chasing a sneaky dragon! Come here! The Fox is going to get you!” Amami yelled in a mix of languages. As Richy slid under a bench, Amami sprang over it, landing with her sword in hand and catching her brother by surprise.
Tsuruko smiled. She didn’t show it often, but she was proud of her daughter. She was fearless. “She must get that from you, Ev,” she said.
After Everett Waxman had been disowned by his family, he’d headed as far east as he could. At the feet of the great Eastern Mountains, he’d learned the languages of the dispersed communities and made a living trading goods from village to village. It was a simple life, devoid of the politics and noise that had surrounded him in Inglea.
Standing on a rocky hill one late afternoon, staring at the towering Eastern Mountains, he’d watched a dot in the distance approach and become something indescribable. As it shot past him leaving a black smoke trail in the sky, he knew he had to follow it. Abandoning his cart, he took off on his horse. There, in a crashed contraption unlike anything he’d ever seen, he found a woman at death’s door. After nursing Tsuruko back to health, they’d built a home on the very spot.
“Ev?” asked Tsuruko, shaking her head. She knew that look in his eyes. It was one of the many things she loved about him, how the past stayed so alive inside him.
“Hmm? Sorry, my dear. Did you say something?” he replied.
She smiled at him in response.
He gazed up at the sun to get a sense of the time. “How about I go in and make lunch?” He planted his trowel and dusted off his hands. “I’ll check on the water pumps later.”
Tsuruko stretched her back and watched the kids dodge expertly around the vegetables, rain barrels and wheelbarrows. She took a moment to fix her long black hair back into a proper pony-tail. “I’ll check them now. I am concerned about the underground river water level. The spring has been too dry.”
“You’re always worried about something, Tsu,” said her husband.
“There is always something about which we can despair,” she replied.
“Argh! Your homeland has such depressing philosophers to
“Then I’ll get the plans out of you, then have you buried,” said Simon with a twisted smile. “And I’ll allow your friends to live, either way.”
Franklin swallowed hard. “Okay, deal.”
CHAPTER NINE
Dragon and Fox
Two and a half year-old Richy ran as fast as he could, in and out of the bushes and small trees of their yard, his older sister hot on his trail.
“I’m going to get you!” yelled eight-year-old Amami happily. She had a leafy stick of bamboo between her legs, a floppy black cloth tied around her neck, and a toy sword in her rope belt. “You’ll never get away, Dragon! I will catch you!”
Richy squealed. “No, Fox! No, you not!”
As he tore past his father, the grey haired man smiled. He’d been gardening for hours, and couldn’t get enough of it. His memories of life in Inglea had faded to the point of feeling like stories that had been told to him, rather than ones he’d lived. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Amami and tucked his head down. Amami let go of the bamboo stick, planted her hands on his back, flipped over him, landed, and continued, never having broken her rhythm. He bent down to pick up his hat and her stick. “Where do you get that from, Amy?” he wondered.
His wife, Tsuruko, shook her head. She didn’t approve of letting Amami do such things. She found them disrespectful, but she knew there was no coming between a father and daughter.
“Careful Amy!” he yelled, earning a nod from his wife.
“You too, Riichi. Right, Everett?” added Tsuruko.
“Yes, you too, Richy,” he replied with a smile. He’d never managed to get the hang of pronouncing Richy’s name properly, but Tsuruko didn’t seem to mind his Ingleash version.
“Sorry, Daddy! But I’m chasing a sneaky dragon! Come here! The Fox is going to get you!” Amami yelled in a mix of languages. As Richy slid under a bench, Amami sprang over it, landing with her sword in hand and catching her brother by surprise.
Tsuruko smiled. She didn’t show it often, but she was proud of her daughter. She was fearless. “She must get that from you, Ev,” she said.
After Everett Waxman had been disowned by his family, he’d headed as far east as he could. At the feet of the great Eastern Mountains, he’d learned the languages of the dispersed communities and made a living trading goods from village to village. It was a simple life, devoid of the politics and noise that had surrounded him in Inglea.
Standing on a rocky hill one late afternoon, staring at the towering Eastern Mountains, he’d watched a dot in the distance approach and become something indescribable. As it shot past him leaving a black smoke trail in the sky, he knew he had to follow it. Abandoning his cart, he took off on his horse. There, in a crashed contraption unlike anything he’d ever seen, he found a woman at death’s door. After nursing Tsuruko back to health, they’d built a home on the very spot.
“Ev?” asked Tsuruko, shaking her head. She knew that look in his eyes. It was one of the many things she loved about him, how the past stayed so alive inside him.
“Hmm? Sorry, my dear. Did you say something?” he replied.
She smiled at him in response.
He gazed up at the sun to get a sense of the time. “How about I go in and make lunch?” He planted his trowel and dusted off his hands. “I’ll check on the water pumps later.”
Tsuruko stretched her back and watched the kids dodge expertly around the vegetables, rain barrels and wheelbarrows. She took a moment to fix her long black hair back into a proper pony-tail. “I’ll check them now. I am concerned about the underground river water level. The spring has been too dry.”
“You’re always worried about something, Tsu,” said her husband.
“There is always something about which we can despair,” she replied.
“Argh! Your homeland has such depressing philosophers to
Similar Books
