Read Online Shield and Crocus by Michael R. Underwood - Free Book Online Page A

innocents. The tyrants had made the city into their personal playground, laboratory, or marketplace, depending on the whim of the day.
    Taking a sip of the marvelous dounmo tea, he scanned the room, leaning in to grab the attention of the nine blue-skinned children so he could continue the story. Wonlar drew their attention up with his hands as he stood tall, stretched to his limit—which was less than it had been when he was young—and said:
    “And then the titan Audec, wounded from a hundred blows, fell from the battle in the heavens. He hurtled through the sky for a week, cutting through clouds, carving the Razorback Mountains with swipes of his hand as he tried to slow his fall. But it didn’t help, and so he crashed to the ground!” Wonlar dropped to the floor and slammed his hands on the carpet, making as much noise as he could and also breaking the force of impact. Their screams of delight and excitement spread a smile clear across his face.
    They were alive, so full of the joy their parents gave them, kept away from the full reality of what it meant to live in Audec-Hal. They would have to learn to survive, but no one could keep him from enjoying the sound of their innocent laughter while it lasted. Rova was right to invite me over today.
    “When Audec fell to earth, he was already dead, heartbroken by the war in the heavens. But when a titan dies, it’s not like you or me…” Wonlar took a controlled fall, raising a small cloud of dust from the old rug. “You fall over and you bounce back up, little things made of rubber like you are.” Wonlar sat up and stood, pausing on the way to tickle Rova’s nephew Dom under the chin. He was rewarded with a gurgle of delight.
    “But Audec was a titan, fifty miles tall from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.” Wonlar touched the top of his head and then knelt down to touch his toes.
    “Centuries later, people found his resting place: a crater fifty miles long, in the shape of a person.” Wonlar sat down slowly, minding his back, and lay on the floor, aping the shape of the city-crevasse. Several giggles bounced through the air at his clowning.
    Being a father prepares you for so many things, most of them you’d never expect. “But all that was left of Audec were his bones.”
    Wonlar picked himself back up. The children had closed ranks, tightened in to listen, their eyes wide, though most had heard the story a dozen times. “The founders had heard the stories of the titans, knew the myth of Audec’s fall. And so, they built a city in that crater. They named it Audec-Hal, in honor of the titan whose bones are here to this very day.”
    Wonlar stood tall, puffing his chest out with exaggerated pride. “Audec-Hal was more prosperous than any city in the continent. We discovered new technologies faster than the Five cities of Tanno to the north, even though they enslaved their scientists to make them work harder. We welcomed people of all races, not like the Pronai-only city of wheel or the Jalvai matriarchy in Quall’s Quarry.” The parents nodded in agreement. Wonlar saw no reason to lie about this, even if he was unabashedly biased.
    Wonlar paced up and down the room, turning his back on the children but raising his voice so they could hear. “Audec-Hal is the greatest, most wonderful city there is, ruled by a Senate that represented the people and protected by the benevolent City Mother, the spirit of the city itself.” Wonlar stopped and his head over his shoulder, speaking in a stage whisper. “Or it was, until the tyrants came.”
    At this, the children hissed. They were a brilliant audience. They knew when to cheer, when to boo. Like all children, they loved to hear stories again and again. I must have told Selweh the story of the first Aegis a thousand times by the time he was three.
    “When the tyrants came, they took the city hostage with their evil. First was Nevri, the gangster.” Wonlar tugged at a make-believe tie and rubbed