Read Online Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1) by Chris Mccready - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chris Mccready
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sewing a small doll in her hands. Spread around the stall were thick fur cloaks, simple and sturdy, with the least amount of highlights to make them fashionable. Donovan ran his hands over a dark brown cloak, with white fur around the collar.
“That one’s a little long for you,” came the woman’s quiet voice. “Try the black one on the other side.”
It was a midnight black color with thick, shaggy fur on the shoulders and around the neck. Donovan fell in love with a single touch, but took his time examining it. He checked every stitch on it, before finally throwing it around his shoulders and doing up the clasp around his neck. “How does it look?” he asked.
“Like you’ll overheat if you wear it in this weather, but it does bring out the violet in your eyes.”
“The stitching seems well-done. Have you been a seamstress your whole life?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a seamstress now,” she said with an energetic laugh. “I spent my life mending nets down in Chaylse, but the salt water’s a killer on my old joints.”
They spent several minutes haggling on a price, and Donovan was folding it up into a bundle when he heard Osmont’s voice from behind. “It looks sturdy,” he said. “You’ll need it if you spend the winter in the mountains.”
“I hope so,” said Donovan. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I hope so,” said Osmont.
“Are we heading back to Haven?”
“Not yet. I want to check out the lodgings to see if anyone remembers seeing you here.”
Donovan held out his arms and turned in a circle. “That doesn’t seem likely with this many people.”
“Don’t get discouraged. We’ll check the inns near the edge of town and check with the guards at the gates, before heading back this evening.
They continued along the south side of the Skyrah River as they headed east to a small bohemian section of the city. They spent the next hour talking to innkeepers, but none recalled seeing anyone Donovan’s size over the past few days.
They followed the south wall of the city back to the city’s south gate. The guards on duty didn’t recall seeing Donovan, but with so many people passing through the gates each day, he could have passed by a dozen times and they still wouldn’t remember him. They promised to talk to the other guards and send word up to Haven if any of them had seen anything.
Hot from walking through the crowds and discouraged from their lack of success, they went back through the Temple District and took a different bridge leading to the west side of the river. The west side of the river was primarily an industrial area, but there was a boardwalk along the river’s edge which contained many rowdy establishments. They finally had success at the fourth such establishment.
The sign outside had a picture of a large liver, with bloodshot eyes and a large leering smile, written below were the words The Engorged Liver . Despite the neighborhood, the inside was surprisingly clean and organized. A buxom lady with smoldering eyes and fiery red hair stood behind the bar. A few patrons sat at tables near the far wall.
“Let’s get some lunch while we’re here,” said Osmont, sitting down at a table facing the bar. The tables were made of a white wood, Osmont thought that they were possibly spruce, with deep gouges and stains on the top surface. Despite the unruly appearance, they appeared to have been cleaned regularly.
Donovan sat down opposite Osmont and looked around the room. A small stage sat beside the fireplace along one wall. The most surprising feature was the general lack of decorations around the room. Its barren appearance made it stand out from the other inns they’d visited.
“It looks pretty empty in here,” said Donovan.
“Don’t let it fool you. An inn devoid of decoration wouldn’t last long unless it was doing something right. People will start trickling in when their shifts end in a few hours.”
“My name’s Aine. What can I
“That one’s a little long for you,” came the woman’s quiet voice. “Try the black one on the other side.”
It was a midnight black color with thick, shaggy fur on the shoulders and around the neck. Donovan fell in love with a single touch, but took his time examining it. He checked every stitch on it, before finally throwing it around his shoulders and doing up the clasp around his neck. “How does it look?” he asked.
“Like you’ll overheat if you wear it in this weather, but it does bring out the violet in your eyes.”
“The stitching seems well-done. Have you been a seamstress your whole life?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a seamstress now,” she said with an energetic laugh. “I spent my life mending nets down in Chaylse, but the salt water’s a killer on my old joints.”
They spent several minutes haggling on a price, and Donovan was folding it up into a bundle when he heard Osmont’s voice from behind. “It looks sturdy,” he said. “You’ll need it if you spend the winter in the mountains.”
“I hope so,” said Donovan. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I hope so,” said Osmont.
“Are we heading back to Haven?”
“Not yet. I want to check out the lodgings to see if anyone remembers seeing you here.”
Donovan held out his arms and turned in a circle. “That doesn’t seem likely with this many people.”
“Don’t get discouraged. We’ll check the inns near the edge of town and check with the guards at the gates, before heading back this evening.
They continued along the south side of the Skyrah River as they headed east to a small bohemian section of the city. They spent the next hour talking to innkeepers, but none recalled seeing anyone Donovan’s size over the past few days.
They followed the south wall of the city back to the city’s south gate. The guards on duty didn’t recall seeing Donovan, but with so many people passing through the gates each day, he could have passed by a dozen times and they still wouldn’t remember him. They promised to talk to the other guards and send word up to Haven if any of them had seen anything.
Hot from walking through the crowds and discouraged from their lack of success, they went back through the Temple District and took a different bridge leading to the west side of the river. The west side of the river was primarily an industrial area, but there was a boardwalk along the river’s edge which contained many rowdy establishments. They finally had success at the fourth such establishment.
The sign outside had a picture of a large liver, with bloodshot eyes and a large leering smile, written below were the words The Engorged Liver . Despite the neighborhood, the inside was surprisingly clean and organized. A buxom lady with smoldering eyes and fiery red hair stood behind the bar. A few patrons sat at tables near the far wall.
“Let’s get some lunch while we’re here,” said Osmont, sitting down at a table facing the bar. The tables were made of a white wood, Osmont thought that they were possibly spruce, with deep gouges and stains on the top surface. Despite the unruly appearance, they appeared to have been cleaned regularly.
Donovan sat down opposite Osmont and looked around the room. A small stage sat beside the fireplace along one wall. The most surprising feature was the general lack of decorations around the room. Its barren appearance made it stand out from the other inns they’d visited.
“It looks pretty empty in here,” said Donovan.
“Don’t let it fool you. An inn devoid of decoration wouldn’t last long unless it was doing something right. People will start trickling in when their shifts end in a few hours.”
“My name’s Aine. What can I
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