Read Online The Blood Thief of Whitten Hall (A Magic & Machinery Novel Book 2) by Jon Messenger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jon Messenger
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side of the bed and rested his face in his hands. His feet sought the slippers that sat somewhere along the side of his bed. Before he could locate the offending slippers, the incessant knock sounded once more.
“I’m coming,” Simon grumbled, though he knew no one could hear him from his upstairs bedroom. “Be patient.”
His toes touched the tops of the slippers, and he slid his feet into the warm shoes. Placing his hands on his knees, he pushed himself upright. A smoking jacket hung upon a hook on the back of his bedroom door. He retrieved the jacket, slipping it over his pajamas.
As he tied the belt around his waist, the persistent visitor knocked for a fourth time.
“I said I’m coming,” Simon yelled, hoping that his visitor could hear his inflamed reply.
With a quiet string of profanity, Simon walked downstairs and into his foyer. A round window on the door was beveled, leaving the features of the knocker distorted. He could make out the person’s youth only from his height and generally narrow build, but he could tell little else.
He unlocked the door and opened it to his visitor.
A young boy looked up excitedly. He quickly removed his hat, holding it to his chest.
“What is it, boy?” Simon asked coarsely.
“Pardon the interruption at such an early hour, sir,” the boy began.
“I believe I would have used the term ‘ungodly hour,’ but do go on,” Simon replied.
“Yes, sir,” the boy continued, clearly familiar with gruff responses from his patrons.
Simon arched his eyebrow toward the boy as the young man merely stood in his presence. “What brings you to my door at such an ungodly hour?”
His question spurred the boy into action. He pulled his hat away from his chest and reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. From within, he pulled free a neatly folded letter. A red wax seal was emblazoned upon the front of the correspondence.
“I have a letter for you, sir,” the boy replied.
Simon nearly asked the origin of the letter but immediately recognized the Inquisitor’s seal. He frowned as he quickly took it. The boy stood patiently at the door, as though he had a further need to be in Simon’s presence.
“Is there something more to deliver?” Simon asked.
The boy looked at him but shook his head. With a sigh, Simon realized why he was still standing by patiently. The Inquisitor looked to the interior table beside the doorway and noted a pair of copper coins. He took the coins and shoved them into the boy’s outstretched hand.
“Be gone,” Simon replied curtly.
The boy slung his hat back onto his head, leaving it dilapidated and crooked as he nodded to the Inquisitor. “Thank you kindly, sir.”
The young messenger hurried down the townhouse stairs and ran down the street, back in the direction of the Grand Hall. Simon had no doubt he would report back to the Grand Inquisitor that his mission had been a success.
Simon closed the door and locked it behind him before breaking the seal on the letter. The wax cracked along its base, leaving the seal intact as Simon unfolded the letter.
With the parchment unfolded, he read the five simple words written across the middle of the page. The letter had no signature, but he had recognized the seal and knew the elder man’s handwriting well enough.
The letter read simply:
I want to meet her.
Simon frowned and reread the letter, as though a secret continuation of the message would soon present itself. He knew more than well enough whom the Grand Inquisitor meant. Clearly, he had finally read Simon’s report. However, those five deceptively simple words revealed nothing of the author’s state of mind, whether he was calmly curious or infuriated.
I want to meet her.
Simon surmised that it was good the letter hadn’t read, “Bring her to me at once.” The second connotation was clearly angrier. Still, it wouldn’t do to keep the Grand Inquisitor waiting for any amount of time.
Simon set the letter on the same table
“I’m coming,” Simon grumbled, though he knew no one could hear him from his upstairs bedroom. “Be patient.”
His toes touched the tops of the slippers, and he slid his feet into the warm shoes. Placing his hands on his knees, he pushed himself upright. A smoking jacket hung upon a hook on the back of his bedroom door. He retrieved the jacket, slipping it over his pajamas.
As he tied the belt around his waist, the persistent visitor knocked for a fourth time.
“I said I’m coming,” Simon yelled, hoping that his visitor could hear his inflamed reply.
With a quiet string of profanity, Simon walked downstairs and into his foyer. A round window on the door was beveled, leaving the features of the knocker distorted. He could make out the person’s youth only from his height and generally narrow build, but he could tell little else.
He unlocked the door and opened it to his visitor.
A young boy looked up excitedly. He quickly removed his hat, holding it to his chest.
“What is it, boy?” Simon asked coarsely.
“Pardon the interruption at such an early hour, sir,” the boy began.
“I believe I would have used the term ‘ungodly hour,’ but do go on,” Simon replied.
“Yes, sir,” the boy continued, clearly familiar with gruff responses from his patrons.
Simon arched his eyebrow toward the boy as the young man merely stood in his presence. “What brings you to my door at such an ungodly hour?”
His question spurred the boy into action. He pulled his hat away from his chest and reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. From within, he pulled free a neatly folded letter. A red wax seal was emblazoned upon the front of the correspondence.
“I have a letter for you, sir,” the boy replied.
Simon nearly asked the origin of the letter but immediately recognized the Inquisitor’s seal. He frowned as he quickly took it. The boy stood patiently at the door, as though he had a further need to be in Simon’s presence.
“Is there something more to deliver?” Simon asked.
The boy looked at him but shook his head. With a sigh, Simon realized why he was still standing by patiently. The Inquisitor looked to the interior table beside the doorway and noted a pair of copper coins. He took the coins and shoved them into the boy’s outstretched hand.
“Be gone,” Simon replied curtly.
The boy slung his hat back onto his head, leaving it dilapidated and crooked as he nodded to the Inquisitor. “Thank you kindly, sir.”
The young messenger hurried down the townhouse stairs and ran down the street, back in the direction of the Grand Hall. Simon had no doubt he would report back to the Grand Inquisitor that his mission had been a success.
Simon closed the door and locked it behind him before breaking the seal on the letter. The wax cracked along its base, leaving the seal intact as Simon unfolded the letter.
With the parchment unfolded, he read the five simple words written across the middle of the page. The letter had no signature, but he had recognized the seal and knew the elder man’s handwriting well enough.
The letter read simply:
I want to meet her.
Simon frowned and reread the letter, as though a secret continuation of the message would soon present itself. He knew more than well enough whom the Grand Inquisitor meant. Clearly, he had finally read Simon’s report. However, those five deceptively simple words revealed nothing of the author’s state of mind, whether he was calmly curious or infuriated.
I want to meet her.
Simon surmised that it was good the letter hadn’t read, “Bring her to me at once.” The second connotation was clearly angrier. Still, it wouldn’t do to keep the Grand Inquisitor waiting for any amount of time.
Simon set the letter on the same table
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