Read Online Bloodmoon (The Scarlet Star Trilogy Book 2) by Ben Galley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ben Galley
Tags: Fiction
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“MAGPIE” scratched into its dark green glass. Lurker uncorked it and sniffed it. ‘Smells fine.’
Lilain took it from him and checked herself. ‘Fine enough.’
Averine blinked owlishly. ‘I take pride in what I do,’ she stated.
It was Merion’s turn. Lurker was digging coins out of his pockets and handing them over to Averine. Blood was not cheap, and Merion bit his lip as he pictured the few coins that lingered in his own pocket. He removed his hat and began to pick through the bench’s offerings. His aunt did the same beside him. Every now and again he would show her a bottle, and she would shake her head or nod. Once she even glared at him, as if he should know better.
Three bottles, that was it: the fine line between what he could drink and what he could afford. Merion was not exactly thrilled with his glamorous options: chipmunk, mule, armadillo. He stared down at the three bottles sitting in his upturned hat, a brief spectrum of brown and red. ‘Well, then,’ he said, reaching into his pocket. He grabbed all he had save for one coin, a heavy gold florin, and handed them over. Averine bit each one, and once she was happy, she ferreted them away in her long robe.
‘Lot of blood for one boy,’ she commented, conversationally.
Rump had been sidling forward, little rifle still hanging from his hands. His eyes were still locked on Merion. The boy piped up, his voice loud and his words slightly muddled at the edges. ‘Are you a leech, mister?’
Merion glanced at his aunt, and she shrugged. Averine and the boy seemed harmless enough. ‘Yes, I am,’ he said.
‘ ’Fraid Rump here is deaf. Got caught on the wrong side of the railroad blasting one day. Can’t hear a thing,’ Averine told them. Merion nodded and smiled at the boy. Rump grinned in return. He could not help but swell with a touch of pride.
‘Lucky,’ Rump said.
Merion nodded again and then bowed to the pair of them. ‘Thank you kindly, for your help. However I’m afraid we must be going.’
‘That we must,’ Lurker echoed, still nurturing his bottle.
Averine curtseyed. ‘So formal, you Empire types. It’s my pleasure, young man. Where you headed?’
Lilain helped her shut and lock the bench. ‘East, and back to the coast,’ she replied. There was something of a wistful tone in her voice, as if part of her wished to stay and chat blood with the old woman.
‘In that case I wish you all well, and Maker bless you with swift travels. The wilds ain’t no place to linger.’
They filed out of the tumbledown church and into the sweltering heat of the afternoon, picking their way between the gravestones like ponderous fingers over chess-pieces. Averine and Rump hovered in the doorway. The little boy waved until they were but shivering shapes in the heat haze.
As soon as Cheyenne was far enough behind them, away from even the most watchful of eyes, two corks were squeaked from their bottles. Lurker took a swig from his, whilst Merion only took a sip from the mule blood. He just wanted to feel the shiver of the magick in his veins.
It came as quickly as he hoped, and fiercely too for such a small drop. He could feel it sliding down his throat and stirring in his stomach, then seeping into his veins to pulsate and throb. Merion shuddered as it rose to his skull. He felt the power in his legs, and all the sore spots and aches of marching through the desert began to fade away.
Almighty, he had missed this.
‘Feeling good, Nephew?’
Merion turned and found Lilain smiling lopsidedly at him.
‘I am indeed, Aunt,’ Merion gasped as the magick ricocheted once more through his body. He felt the tiredness dripping away, and the strength and endurance flowing into his legs and spine. ‘I feel like I could go for miles.’
‘Well, enjoy it while it lasts. You got maybe an hour or two before it wears off, I think. It’ll last a little longer as you haven’t done it in a while,’ Lilain told him.
‘Is that how it works? It
Lilain took it from him and checked herself. ‘Fine enough.’
Averine blinked owlishly. ‘I take pride in what I do,’ she stated.
It was Merion’s turn. Lurker was digging coins out of his pockets and handing them over to Averine. Blood was not cheap, and Merion bit his lip as he pictured the few coins that lingered in his own pocket. He removed his hat and began to pick through the bench’s offerings. His aunt did the same beside him. Every now and again he would show her a bottle, and she would shake her head or nod. Once she even glared at him, as if he should know better.
Three bottles, that was it: the fine line between what he could drink and what he could afford. Merion was not exactly thrilled with his glamorous options: chipmunk, mule, armadillo. He stared down at the three bottles sitting in his upturned hat, a brief spectrum of brown and red. ‘Well, then,’ he said, reaching into his pocket. He grabbed all he had save for one coin, a heavy gold florin, and handed them over. Averine bit each one, and once she was happy, she ferreted them away in her long robe.
‘Lot of blood for one boy,’ she commented, conversationally.
Rump had been sidling forward, little rifle still hanging from his hands. His eyes were still locked on Merion. The boy piped up, his voice loud and his words slightly muddled at the edges. ‘Are you a leech, mister?’
Merion glanced at his aunt, and she shrugged. Averine and the boy seemed harmless enough. ‘Yes, I am,’ he said.
‘ ’Fraid Rump here is deaf. Got caught on the wrong side of the railroad blasting one day. Can’t hear a thing,’ Averine told them. Merion nodded and smiled at the boy. Rump grinned in return. He could not help but swell with a touch of pride.
‘Lucky,’ Rump said.
Merion nodded again and then bowed to the pair of them. ‘Thank you kindly, for your help. However I’m afraid we must be going.’
‘That we must,’ Lurker echoed, still nurturing his bottle.
Averine curtseyed. ‘So formal, you Empire types. It’s my pleasure, young man. Where you headed?’
Lilain helped her shut and lock the bench. ‘East, and back to the coast,’ she replied. There was something of a wistful tone in her voice, as if part of her wished to stay and chat blood with the old woman.
‘In that case I wish you all well, and Maker bless you with swift travels. The wilds ain’t no place to linger.’
They filed out of the tumbledown church and into the sweltering heat of the afternoon, picking their way between the gravestones like ponderous fingers over chess-pieces. Averine and Rump hovered in the doorway. The little boy waved until they were but shivering shapes in the heat haze.
As soon as Cheyenne was far enough behind them, away from even the most watchful of eyes, two corks were squeaked from their bottles. Lurker took a swig from his, whilst Merion only took a sip from the mule blood. He just wanted to feel the shiver of the magick in his veins.
It came as quickly as he hoped, and fiercely too for such a small drop. He could feel it sliding down his throat and stirring in his stomach, then seeping into his veins to pulsate and throb. Merion shuddered as it rose to his skull. He felt the power in his legs, and all the sore spots and aches of marching through the desert began to fade away.
Almighty, he had missed this.
‘Feeling good, Nephew?’
Merion turned and found Lilain smiling lopsidedly at him.
‘I am indeed, Aunt,’ Merion gasped as the magick ricocheted once more through his body. He felt the tiredness dripping away, and the strength and endurance flowing into his legs and spine. ‘I feel like I could go for miles.’
‘Well, enjoy it while it lasts. You got maybe an hour or two before it wears off, I think. It’ll last a little longer as you haven’t done it in a while,’ Lilain told him.
‘Is that how it works? It
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