Read Online The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey by Melissa Myers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melissa Myers
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quick hug as he handed her the bundled food and turned to
leave. “Goodbye, and thank you again.”
He gave her another faint smile and nodded.
“You’ll be back before we know it, Curly, and full of stories of
the big city.”
She made her way down the hall toward the
chapel room, brushing her hand lightly at the flour dusting her
dress. Father Belson was exactly where she had expected him to be,
kneeling before the altar deep in prayer. She stood back silent not
wanting to disturb him. She idly wondered if he was praying for her
and a safe journey.
She heard the sound of a throat clearing
behind her and started. She hadn’t noticed anyone else in the
chapel when she had entered. Her eyes landed on a young man a
little older than her. He sat in a slouch with his feet propped up
on the pew in front of him. He wore a dark suit that was well
tailored and fit him perfectly. His dark blond hair was trimmed
neatly, and he was the most handsome man she had seen since Victory
and Havoc had left her here. In short, he was definitely a
stranger. “Pardon, Sir, I hadn’t noticed you there. May I be of
assistance while good Father Belson is occupied?”
He seemed to ponder her words and shook his
head. “Nope, I’m here to see you, not him.” She raised an eyebrow
at the response, but he ignored her obvious look of question. “You
know in other cities, Temples to Fortune are more like fest halls
than actual Temples.” He fidgeted on the seat slightly, as if
seeking a more comfortable position. “They have padded chairs and
gaming tables and lively girls serving drinks while you play
cards.” He lit a cigarette and fidgeted again, ignoring her
disapproval at his smoking.
“That doesn’t sound much like a church,” she
muttered, unsure of this new topic, as she tried to think of a
polite way to get him to put out the cigarette without raising a
fuss.
“No, it isn’t really, and it’s a great
racket. With every roll of the dice or flick of a card, they pay me
homage without even realizing it. If they had to sit on benches
this hard, the only thing they would be praying for would be a new
god or a new ass.”
“Did you say pay homage to you?” She
emphasized the last word and watched him carefully trying to
determine if he was playing a joke or was simply mad.
“Mmm hmmm, I sure did. I’ve come to see you
off to the Academy and offer you words of advice and
encouragement.” He seemed unaware of her pending judgment on his
sanity and simply smiled at her. “Probably for the best that you
are going to the Academy, you would have made a lousy priest since
you can’t recognize your own god,” he added when she remained
silent.
“I’m not sure how I could recognize you as we
have never met before.” She glanced back over her shoulder as she
spoke, hoping Father Belson would have noticed the odd exchange by
now and be on his way to rescue her from the obvious madman.
“He can’t see or hear us,” the man said.
She frowned and stared after Father Belson
who didn’t seem to be showing any reaction to the conversation
behind him. “Why can’t he?” She asked, with concern for the old man
in her voice. He didn’t seem to be hurt, but perhaps the man had
drugged him.
“Because I stopped time. You overslept and we
needed time to talk, so I stopped time to make time.” He smiled
happily at his own wordplay and motioned toward Father Belson. “Go
ahead poke him, he won’t move or even notice.”
She watched Father Belson for another minute
and turned back to look at the madman. “OK, I’ll play along for
now. You are Fortune, the God of Luck, and you have come to give me
advice.”
The young man frowned at her. “That is
actually more of statement of fact, than playing,” he said
dryly.
She nodded, still skeptical and motioned for
him to speak. “So what advice would you offer?” she asked when he
remained silent.
He took a long drag from his cigarette and
blew the smoke out slowly. “Not
leave. “Goodbye, and thank you again.”
He gave her another faint smile and nodded.
“You’ll be back before we know it, Curly, and full of stories of
the big city.”
She made her way down the hall toward the
chapel room, brushing her hand lightly at the flour dusting her
dress. Father Belson was exactly where she had expected him to be,
kneeling before the altar deep in prayer. She stood back silent not
wanting to disturb him. She idly wondered if he was praying for her
and a safe journey.
She heard the sound of a throat clearing
behind her and started. She hadn’t noticed anyone else in the
chapel when she had entered. Her eyes landed on a young man a
little older than her. He sat in a slouch with his feet propped up
on the pew in front of him. He wore a dark suit that was well
tailored and fit him perfectly. His dark blond hair was trimmed
neatly, and he was the most handsome man she had seen since Victory
and Havoc had left her here. In short, he was definitely a
stranger. “Pardon, Sir, I hadn’t noticed you there. May I be of
assistance while good Father Belson is occupied?”
He seemed to ponder her words and shook his
head. “Nope, I’m here to see you, not him.” She raised an eyebrow
at the response, but he ignored her obvious look of question. “You
know in other cities, Temples to Fortune are more like fest halls
than actual Temples.” He fidgeted on the seat slightly, as if
seeking a more comfortable position. “They have padded chairs and
gaming tables and lively girls serving drinks while you play
cards.” He lit a cigarette and fidgeted again, ignoring her
disapproval at his smoking.
“That doesn’t sound much like a church,” she
muttered, unsure of this new topic, as she tried to think of a
polite way to get him to put out the cigarette without raising a
fuss.
“No, it isn’t really, and it’s a great
racket. With every roll of the dice or flick of a card, they pay me
homage without even realizing it. If they had to sit on benches
this hard, the only thing they would be praying for would be a new
god or a new ass.”
“Did you say pay homage to you?” She
emphasized the last word and watched him carefully trying to
determine if he was playing a joke or was simply mad.
“Mmm hmmm, I sure did. I’ve come to see you
off to the Academy and offer you words of advice and
encouragement.” He seemed unaware of her pending judgment on his
sanity and simply smiled at her. “Probably for the best that you
are going to the Academy, you would have made a lousy priest since
you can’t recognize your own god,” he added when she remained
silent.
“I’m not sure how I could recognize you as we
have never met before.” She glanced back over her shoulder as she
spoke, hoping Father Belson would have noticed the odd exchange by
now and be on his way to rescue her from the obvious madman.
“He can’t see or hear us,” the man said.
She frowned and stared after Father Belson
who didn’t seem to be showing any reaction to the conversation
behind him. “Why can’t he?” She asked, with concern for the old man
in her voice. He didn’t seem to be hurt, but perhaps the man had
drugged him.
“Because I stopped time. You overslept and we
needed time to talk, so I stopped time to make time.” He smiled
happily at his own wordplay and motioned toward Father Belson. “Go
ahead poke him, he won’t move or even notice.”
She watched Father Belson for another minute
and turned back to look at the madman. “OK, I’ll play along for
now. You are Fortune, the God of Luck, and you have come to give me
advice.”
The young man frowned at her. “That is
actually more of statement of fact, than playing,” he said
dryly.
She nodded, still skeptical and motioned for
him to speak. “So what advice would you offer?” she asked when he
remained silent.
He took a long drag from his cigarette and
blew the smoke out slowly. “Not
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