Read Online Journey Into the Flame by T. R. Williams - Free Book Online
Authors: T. R. Williams
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convulsions that preceded the Great Disruption, retreated to farmland that Alfred had inherited in Switzerland. The land was replete with lakes and streams, food and water, and they would spend the next five years there until their close friend, Fendral Hitchlords, asked them to join him on a trip to Washington, D.C. While Alfred chose to keep his focus on the recovery of his family’s fortune and prominence, Andrea went with Fendral and his young son, Simon, on the adventure. It was then that Andrea reemerged on the world stage, this time as a founding member of the Council of Satraya.
Andrea pulled her thoughts back to the present, opened her eyes, and adjusted her crimson hood. She was still worried about Simon’s nonchalant attitude regarding Camden and the emergence of the Forest Set. But confronting Simon was not advisable. She’d been reminded of that when she’d seen the black rose he’d laid at the place her late husband used to occupy at the meeting table at Château Dugan. She looked through the window and out at the darkness, wondering if yet another man was going to disappoint her.
It was almost time for the auction.
6
Every step taken and not taken, every choice made and not made, unfolds your life. Just be sincere in all you do or do not do.
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
NEW CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, 8:00 P.M. LOCAL TIME,
6 DAYS UNTIL FREEDOM DAY
New Chicago had suffered greatly at the hands of the Great Disruption. More than half of the buildings along Michigan Avenue, once known as the Magnificent Mile, had crumbled into heaps of concrete and steel, taking all of their inhabitants with them. As a major population area, New Chicago had since received a great deal of government support. Rebuilding occurred rapidly, and the city thrived during the Rising. Survivors in the surrounding suburbs and exurbs made their way to the city to start new lives, and soon it became a model for how reconstruction efforts should be carried out around the world. The world-renowned Mason One Auction House was located on the corner of Michigan Avenue and East Huron Street, one of the busiest intersections in the city. It was where the abandoned Allerton Hotel had been, until John Mason bought and converted it in 2055.
In the car on the way there, Logan heard an unruly crowd chanting, “Burn the books! Burn the books!” It gave him chills.
Soon the car pulled up in front of the arched entrance of therenovated building. The auction house had not only provided Logan’s transportation for the evening, but it had also provided his attire. He adjusted the uncomfortable tie and brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes. The driver opened the door for him, and a team of policemen ensured that the protesters didn’t harass any of Mason One’s patrons.
A woman in a pink tweed suit walked out from the main entrance toward Logan. “Good evening, dear,” she greeted him. “Let’s go inside, away from the madness out here. Why these Coterie people are so determined to disrupt things is beyond me.” She shot an unfriendly look at one of the protesters as she grabbed Logan by the arm and escorted him inside.
Ms. Crawley, the auction house coordinator, was in her late sixties but looked much younger. She always had a set of reading glasses around her neck, and she was as sharp as a tack. No one really understood the relationship between her and John Mason, but it was evident that Ms. Crawley usually got what she wanted. She reminded Logan of a mother hen.
“You’ll be happy to know that some very prominent people have arrived at the last minute. It’s not every day that we get to auction off an original set of The Chronicles of Satraya. ”
“Doesn’t look like the people out there are too happy about it,” said Logan. “I apologize for causing such a stir and waiting till the last minute to decide whether to sell the books. They meant a great deal to my parents, and I wasn’t sure if I could part with them. But it
Andrea pulled her thoughts back to the present, opened her eyes, and adjusted her crimson hood. She was still worried about Simon’s nonchalant attitude regarding Camden and the emergence of the Forest Set. But confronting Simon was not advisable. She’d been reminded of that when she’d seen the black rose he’d laid at the place her late husband used to occupy at the meeting table at Château Dugan. She looked through the window and out at the darkness, wondering if yet another man was going to disappoint her.
It was almost time for the auction.
6
Every step taken and not taken, every choice made and not made, unfolds your life. Just be sincere in all you do or do not do.
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
NEW CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, 8:00 P.M. LOCAL TIME,
6 DAYS UNTIL FREEDOM DAY
New Chicago had suffered greatly at the hands of the Great Disruption. More than half of the buildings along Michigan Avenue, once known as the Magnificent Mile, had crumbled into heaps of concrete and steel, taking all of their inhabitants with them. As a major population area, New Chicago had since received a great deal of government support. Rebuilding occurred rapidly, and the city thrived during the Rising. Survivors in the surrounding suburbs and exurbs made their way to the city to start new lives, and soon it became a model for how reconstruction efforts should be carried out around the world. The world-renowned Mason One Auction House was located on the corner of Michigan Avenue and East Huron Street, one of the busiest intersections in the city. It was where the abandoned Allerton Hotel had been, until John Mason bought and converted it in 2055.
In the car on the way there, Logan heard an unruly crowd chanting, “Burn the books! Burn the books!” It gave him chills.
Soon the car pulled up in front of the arched entrance of therenovated building. The auction house had not only provided Logan’s transportation for the evening, but it had also provided his attire. He adjusted the uncomfortable tie and brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes. The driver opened the door for him, and a team of policemen ensured that the protesters didn’t harass any of Mason One’s patrons.
A woman in a pink tweed suit walked out from the main entrance toward Logan. “Good evening, dear,” she greeted him. “Let’s go inside, away from the madness out here. Why these Coterie people are so determined to disrupt things is beyond me.” She shot an unfriendly look at one of the protesters as she grabbed Logan by the arm and escorted him inside.
Ms. Crawley, the auction house coordinator, was in her late sixties but looked much younger. She always had a set of reading glasses around her neck, and she was as sharp as a tack. No one really understood the relationship between her and John Mason, but it was evident that Ms. Crawley usually got what she wanted. She reminded Logan of a mother hen.
“You’ll be happy to know that some very prominent people have arrived at the last minute. It’s not every day that we get to auction off an original set of The Chronicles of Satraya. ”
“Doesn’t look like the people out there are too happy about it,” said Logan. “I apologize for causing such a stir and waiting till the last minute to decide whether to sell the books. They meant a great deal to my parents, and I wasn’t sure if I could part with them. But it
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