Read Online Shades of Red by K. C. Dyer - Free Book Online Page A

significant of all, of course, was her right foot. Darrell sighed and raised her leg awkwardly. No state-of-the-art prosthesis to be seen. In its place was a roughly foot-shaped contraption carved out of heavy reddish wood and hinged at the spot where her ankle would be — if she still had one.
    Darrell sighed and pressed onward. The new foot swung clumsily, but it allowed her to keep moving, and that was what she needed most right now.
    The rough wall that she had been relying upon for balance carried on a few feet more and then dipped sharply into a niche. Near the floor, emerging from the solid rock, was a tiny stone altar. Below it a small basin scooped into the cobbled floor.
    Darrell’s running shoe had become a soft leather slipper on her left foot. This allowed her to walk very quietly, but the rustle of her skirts and the clatter of her wooden foot was still noise enough to send a mouse scamperingaway from the face of the altar. She stopped for a moment to watch the creature skitter down the hall and melt into the darkness, then she dropped to kneel near the tiny structure. Perhaps it held a clue to her whereabouts.
    A trickle of water ran from a flower-shaped stone spigot partway up the wall and dripped lazily into a stone basin, green and white with lime deposits and age. So this was what had drawn the mouse.
    A small collection of objects rested on the stone shelf. A couple of leather-bound books, an assortment of three or four scrolls of heavy paper or parchment and —
    A menorah.
    Her fingers traced the Hebrew letters and symbols etched into the heavy brass base. She scraped her nail above one symbol and a fine layer of yellow wax curled and dropped into the shadows.
    â€œ
Deus Do Elogio
! What are you doing here? This is no safe place for a young woman.”
    The voice was gentle, but Darrell was no less startled for it. Her hands flew away from the items on the stone altar as she scrambled to stand. The menorah teetered dangerously on the edge of the shelf, but before Darrell could move to save it she felt the brush of a warm hand and the menorah was safely back in its place.
    â€œIs it time to celebrate Chanukah?” Darrell blurted.
    The man beside her was hooded and in the dim light she could not see his face. He folded his handstogether inside the heavy sleeves of his robe. “This candlestick belonged once to a man I knew long ago. And yes, during the Festival of Lights it is sometimes used for its proper function, but these days it is mostly a provider of much-needed light for travellers such as yourself.” He paused. “You know of this festival,” he added quietly. “You are of the
Sephardim?
”
    Darrell shook her head, unsure how much to reveal. “No — no. At least I don’t think so. It’s just — well — I know a man who is Jewish. He has a menorah a bit like this one.”
    The hooded man shifted, and though she could make out no other detail, Darrell could see the gleam of his eyes as he scrutinized her face. “I was not told to expect a traveller,” he said, as though to himself. He walked over to the low stone altar and knelt for a moment.
    Darrell stood uneasily against one wall, not knowing whether to move on or stay. After a long moment, the man crossed himself and stood up. “I came here to take away these things,” he said. “This place is no longer safe. But instead of just collecting a few religious relics, I now find I have a young girl to spirit away as well.”
    He looked at her critically. “I see you walk with a limp,” he said, pointing to her foot. His eyes softened. “You have suffered much, and there will be more ahead, I fear.”
    â€œPlease, sir,” Darrell’s desperation welled up inside her and right out of her mouth, “I have been travelling with some friends, and I’ve — I have somehow managed to lose them. Have you seen them anywhere? They should be