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Anbieter: California Books, Miami, FL, USACalifornia Books
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In den WarenkorbBestandsnummer des Verkäufers I-9781440150166
- Titel
- Mortals: Hayden Roux Chronicles
- Autor
- Joshi, Bhabika
- Verlag
- iUniverse
- Erscheinungsjahr
- 2009
- Zustand
- New
- Einband
- Softcover
- Sprache
- Englisch
- ISBN-10
- 1440150168
- ISBN-13
- 9781440150166
„Inhaltsangabe“ gehört möglicherweise zu einer anderen Auflage dieses Titels.
Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Mortals
Hayden Roux ChroniclesBy Bhabika JoshiiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2009 Bhabika JoshiAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-5016-6
Chapter One
First BetrayalThe water tapped lightly on the steel sink. The light looked over all from the millions of oil lamps. The suffocating room was still, though, even if it contained thousands of human beings. The murmurs were kept to a minimum, except when a lady walked through. Then they were not to be heard at all.
The majestic lady floated along the top branch of the room and lightly tapped a few citizens. They shivered and bowed down low.
She climbed the constricted stairs stoically. Her coat left her shoulders and revealed a long ball gown. It had sequins and diamonds covering the lace and it was the beautiful and royal, yet plain, color of red.
A golden throne lifted up out of the wooden ground and waited patiently behind the grand lady. It had small carvings, barely big enough to see and only visible after you were staring down. It held high, about six feet and the seat sat at about three.
The lady sat on the throne and stared out at the thousands of people sitting on measly floors before her. Her hands waited by the sides, not moving, but her pulse blared loudly, every inch moving faster than it ever had.
"Lovely evening, isn't it, Flora? Weather-wise."
As she said it, the silence was impressive. Not a muscle moved, that is, until she directed it at a petite woman halfway across the immense room. The petite lady twitched madly, then looked up, revealing large tired gray eyes.
"Yes, Highness," she replied with a terror to her voice.
The crowd looked up at their Highness, awaiting an answer to the one that had just been said.
"And, if I may ask, what have you been doing today, Anatole?"
A young man with a badly bruised face looked up at the call of his name but avoided looking at the Highness.
"Your majesty, nothing important. I have just been doing my work, you know, at the post office."
He looked around at his comrades, quickly stirred a look at the highness, and then covered his bruised face once more, afraid of what he might hear.
"Quite charming. Yes. Then explain to me why, when you arrived here, you came from the east? I was so clearly sure that your office was west of this charming little place?"
"Well, majesty, now -
His plead for her to understanding him was broken off by a pierced scream coming from the center of the crowd. Flora, the woman who had spoken a few minutes earlier was withering in the crowd as her face held lines of superfluous blood. Her companions covered her with a blanket and pushed her away rather harshly than one would expect a friend to do so.
"Please forgive her for the scream, Highness," a companion of Flora's begged.
"For the scream I will forgive her, for it was partly my fault. I had ordered the knife, but she ordered her own side of mistakes," she said, now facing slowly at Anatole. "You would not like that to happen to you, too?" she said, pointing a long finger at the blanket containing Flora inside.
"No, Majesty! Of course not!"
"Ahh ... as I thought so very well myself. Now, tell me where you really were this whole day."
Anatole looked nervously at his comrades again, as if hoping to get answers from them. His eyes were scared, as if those pupils knew what was coming. His body shook violently on the dark and musty floor.
"I was at work," he squeaked silently and closed his eyes in dear hope.
"So you've decided to lie to me once again. I thought you amongst the loyal, but I should have known better than to have thought that."
She took out a small jagged knife and touched it with her hands. Anatole's scream was louder than Flora's. And he did not wither like Flora, either. He simply screamed once, loud and serrated, then all knew what had just happened.
At the far right corner, a large group of outsized men roared into laughter. The mirth continued to make its way around the crowd, firing up the hefty assembly of people.
The Highness stood up and held up a hand. Everyone abruptly silenced and looked down, afraid of what the terror would be to come.
"Silence!" she rolled the word out, so everyone present could get the full meaning. "I will not have anymore of your foolishness!"
Her scream echoed loudly as she walked along the stage. She turned the faucet shut from the sink, for it still pattered lightly. Her long hands reached into her dress and pulled out a newspaper clipping.
"Now, before my summoning to you, I faltered upon a very, very, amusing article. It said something about a subject I have been waiting an extremely long time for. An extremely long time."
A shiver ran through the crowd. Now they understood why their Queen had brought all of them at once. Or at least all she could gather.
"This article is more loyal than all of you put together! Now, isn't that amazing?"
She looked around at the crowd with disrespect etched in every inch of her fragile body. Her hands formed a fist and her face was the amazing royal - another royal - color of purple. It matched her dress very well.
"You!" she said pointing a finger at an older man. "Are my eyes blind or is your appearance true?" She cackled.
"Are you not the victim of the government that needed bailing out for the hundredth instance this lifetime?"
The man feebly shook his head, a nod and shrug all in one. "Y-yes, ma'm."
"But you decided not to help me? All of you knew, didn't you? Every single one of you knew it had happened the minute it had occurred. The girl was born early this morning, and I just got warned that she was born - by a newspaper! I would have thought better of all of you!"
She looked around again and spit on the wooden floor. "Now, I could easily kill every single one of you, but I decided that it would be better if I gave everyone a second chance. I'm sure none of you will want to wither away like Flora and Anatole, who also I gave a second chance to."
She looked at Flora's blanket, which had stopped moving, making it obvious what had happened to her. Anatole's body was beside Flora's and still for once and all.
"To fully gain my confidence in you - actually that will not happen - but at least a little confidence, you must follow the exact directions I lay for you.
"We will take the Chamber to White Grover, where the child should be. Bombs should be immediately blasted, but harm a hair on that child and you will wish you had never been born. Whoever finds the child first must bring her straight to me. You should not consider anything other than this mission tonight. We shall not remain anonymous; we shall show our victory like we've won before we even have started. To say the truth, this battle began long before the battle cry."
* * *
Five hours ago:
Pandora ambled fluidly back to her state of mind. The stress and anxiety she had been put under lately had gotten to her. Her heaps of specialized victims had grown over the last few years. The thoughts of torture and injustice she had long since had in her mind were quickly running out of ideas, and Pandora was being forced to use the same punishment twice.
The train thundered above her as Pandora sliced through the underground woven haven she had created for herself. Bits and chunks of mud rustled with quaking fear as the train came to a nudging stop.
Pandora climbed up the...
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