Read Online Without a Front by Fletcher DeLancey - Free Book Online
Authors: Fletcher DeLancey
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dressing for her run in the pre-dawn stillness when she felt Micah approaching. Opening her cabin door, she watched as he mounted the wooden steps to her front porch and wordlessly held up a small bottle.
âI have to change my eyes, too?â She took the bottle with a sigh.
âAnd your hair.â He pulled a second, larger bottle out of his pocket.
She favored him with a glare before shutting the door in his face and carrying the bottles into the bathroom. Grumbling, she tipped her head back and squeezed in the eyedrops, which teemed with colorizers that absorbed nearly all wavelengths of light, giving her normally blue eyes a dark brown appearance. A spritz of colorizers combed through her hair swiftly turned it from light blonde to nearly black, and she made a face at the final result. The woman in the mirror was someone she normally saw during certain nighttime training exercises and a few stealth missions, and she was not at all happy assuming this camouflage on her own Fahla-damned vacation.
But she forgave Micah less than a hantick later when she realized the benefits of anonymity. She was delighted to receive polite nods from the other dawn runners, who saw her as just one more of their number, and by the time she returned to her cabin, she had a whole new appreciation for what had previously been nothing more than a tactical tool.
Every morning she ran on the beach, filling her lungs with the tang of the sea and thoroughly enjoying her invisibility. On his end, Micah was so pleased by the outcome that he offered to reduce the number of Guards accompanying her on her trail and shore hikes if she agreed to continue using the colorizers. She happily clasped his forearm, sealing the bargain, and proceeded to spend her days in a state as close to complete solitude as a Lancer could hope to be. The only reminder of her responsibilities came in the form of nightly reports that Aldirk sent to her reader card, some of which required answers and instructions.
Micah had done a fine job picking out this location. The village was on the northwest coast of Pallea, a world away from Blacksun in terrain, vegetation, and weather. It was early winter back home, and the mountains encircling Blacksun Basin were already dusted by the first snow. Here, so close to the Great Belt, snow was a distant fantasy and she was wearing short sleeves even at night. Her cabin was surrounded by exotic trees she couldnât name and brilliant flowers pouring their scents upon the breeze. Behind the village, steep canyons led up into the mountains, dripping with lush undergrowth that grew even on the sheer rock walls. Tal soon established an evening routine of sitting out on her front porch, enjoying the soft, scented air as she watched the waves sliding gently up the beach.
It was difficult to imagine these sedate waves rising up and crashing across the village, but the coastlines of both Argolis and Pallea were subject to severe storms and wave damage. Every cabin at her inn stood on stilts, and the high-water mark on hers was just below the top step.
Having spent most of her life in a landlocked valley, Tal didnât often see the ocean and was fascinated by its wildness. The vast reaches of open water fueled shockingly strong storms, and an entire branch of warriors existed solely to watch over and rescue those whose luck ran out. The Mariners enjoyed a mystique that even the Guards could only dream of, but Tal thought they earned every bit of it. Sometimes she wondered why the producers who fished the dangerous areas werenât warrior caste as well. They risked death with every trip, returned to safety, and went straight out to risk it again. A high number of warriors did crew those boats, but fishing was traditionally thought to be a producer caste job.
On these calm days, such dangers seemed far away. Tal loved running at the edge of the water, racing the waves up and down the sand and sometimes simply splashing straight
âI have to change my eyes, too?â She took the bottle with a sigh.
âAnd your hair.â He pulled a second, larger bottle out of his pocket.
She favored him with a glare before shutting the door in his face and carrying the bottles into the bathroom. Grumbling, she tipped her head back and squeezed in the eyedrops, which teemed with colorizers that absorbed nearly all wavelengths of light, giving her normally blue eyes a dark brown appearance. A spritz of colorizers combed through her hair swiftly turned it from light blonde to nearly black, and she made a face at the final result. The woman in the mirror was someone she normally saw during certain nighttime training exercises and a few stealth missions, and she was not at all happy assuming this camouflage on her own Fahla-damned vacation.
But she forgave Micah less than a hantick later when she realized the benefits of anonymity. She was delighted to receive polite nods from the other dawn runners, who saw her as just one more of their number, and by the time she returned to her cabin, she had a whole new appreciation for what had previously been nothing more than a tactical tool.
Every morning she ran on the beach, filling her lungs with the tang of the sea and thoroughly enjoying her invisibility. On his end, Micah was so pleased by the outcome that he offered to reduce the number of Guards accompanying her on her trail and shore hikes if she agreed to continue using the colorizers. She happily clasped his forearm, sealing the bargain, and proceeded to spend her days in a state as close to complete solitude as a Lancer could hope to be. The only reminder of her responsibilities came in the form of nightly reports that Aldirk sent to her reader card, some of which required answers and instructions.
Micah had done a fine job picking out this location. The village was on the northwest coast of Pallea, a world away from Blacksun in terrain, vegetation, and weather. It was early winter back home, and the mountains encircling Blacksun Basin were already dusted by the first snow. Here, so close to the Great Belt, snow was a distant fantasy and she was wearing short sleeves even at night. Her cabin was surrounded by exotic trees she couldnât name and brilliant flowers pouring their scents upon the breeze. Behind the village, steep canyons led up into the mountains, dripping with lush undergrowth that grew even on the sheer rock walls. Tal soon established an evening routine of sitting out on her front porch, enjoying the soft, scented air as she watched the waves sliding gently up the beach.
It was difficult to imagine these sedate waves rising up and crashing across the village, but the coastlines of both Argolis and Pallea were subject to severe storms and wave damage. Every cabin at her inn stood on stilts, and the high-water mark on hers was just below the top step.
Having spent most of her life in a landlocked valley, Tal didnât often see the ocean and was fascinated by its wildness. The vast reaches of open water fueled shockingly strong storms, and an entire branch of warriors existed solely to watch over and rescue those whose luck ran out. The Mariners enjoyed a mystique that even the Guards could only dream of, but Tal thought they earned every bit of it. Sometimes she wondered why the producers who fished the dangerous areas werenât warrior caste as well. They risked death with every trip, returned to safety, and went straight out to risk it again. A high number of warriors did crew those boats, but fishing was traditionally thought to be a producer caste job.
On these calm days, such dangers seemed far away. Tal loved running at the edge of the water, racing the waves up and down the sand and sometimes simply splashing straight
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