Read Online Indomitus Oriens (The Fovean Chronicles) by Robert Brady - Free Book Online Page A

raised”
     
    “Through Fovea, through Fovea, over you shall watch
    One who eludes prying eyes,
    With one who can’t be touched.
    So shall they come together
    Heroes of the land
    Together to oppose the One
    While all apart they stand.”
     
    “The day, the day, there comes the day.
    The day, the day is near.
    The day, the day, here comes the day.
    The time of War is here.”
     
    “For Fovea, Fovea, then must they live and die.
    Fight the battle from within
    With a champion from outside.
    You shall be the weapons
    The tools of men and gods
    Who come too late for victory
    And win despite these odds.
     
    “The day, the day, there comes the day.
    The day, the day is near.
    The day, the day, here comes the day.
    The time of War is here.”
     
    As the last note died, the thirteen circles burst into flame and burned themselves into the floor, one at a time, as the magic released fought for a way out. A moment later all of the fires died down together, and Glynn flew from their midst down the center of the throne room, more like a rag doll than a Caster, to bounce from the polished surface of the double doors and to fall unconscious on the carpet in a heap.
    * * *
                  The bar was smoky, crowded and reeked of beer and aftershave. Bill showed up after he ate, lots of starches, so he wouldn’t get drunk. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t compound it with a DUI.
                  He found them all sitting at the bar, all smoking and each with a drink. They were clearly waiting for him, and the stool next to Melissa had been left empty.
                  “Hey, there he is,” Roy said.
                  “There I am,” Bill said. He sat next to Melissa on the stool, and she kissed him on the cheek.
                  “Thanks for coming,” she said, probably to cover his embarrassment, rubbing off her lipstick with her thumb right after.
                  “What are you drinkin’?” one of the bartenders asked him. There were at least four of them. If he went out at all, Bill usually went to the sort of place that had one person behind the bar.
                  “Bud,” he said.
                  “Uck, beer,” Chelsea, one of Melissa’s girlfriends, said. “Half the alcohol at ten times the calories.”
                  “You mean I might lose my girlish figure?” Bill said, taking a stab at being funny at his own expense.
                  That got an ‘Ohhhhh,’ from the girls and a few smiles. The bartender poured a one-pint bar glass and Melissa pushed a five in front of Bill.
                  “You don’t have to pay,” he said.
                  “Nope, you’re mine for the night,” she said. “Deal’s a deal.”
                  “Yeah, but that’s not right,” Bill said.
                  “Check out Galahad,” the girl who had tried to start Melissa’s car said.
                  “I thought I was Lancelot?” Bill said, not knowing if he should be offended.
                  Melissa smiled at him. “You’re both,” she said. “I think it’s sweet. Boys don’t know how to act these days.”
                  “Well, how are we supposed to know?” Roy protested. “You want us to open doors but you go racing through them ahead of us, then you smack us down for being sexist.”
                  “I got smack down for ordering for a date, once,” another of the hanger-on guys said. “Said I did it to make her feel stupid.”
                  “Uff—I hate it when guys order,” Chelsea said. “They always get it wrong.”
                  “Then you have to choke down a steak and potatoes when you wanted chicken,” Melissa said.
                  “Or lobster,” another of the girls said.
                  “Slut,” Chelsea commented,