A Sinister Radiance (The Shapes Between Shadows Book 1) by Andrew Berac

Author:Andrew Berac [Berac, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atramentous Books
Published: 2024-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

chapter 24:

A LITTLE WINTER READING

THERE FOLLOWED A MONTH or so where things were fairly quiet. The Kestrels were still infesting the city, but the watch’s crackdown seemed to have reined them in. If there were any more deaths or disappearances in the elven district, I didn’t hear about it. I wasn’t at the Rest very often, and neither was Tilo, from what the others said. I’d only seen him once since my trip into the district, and we mostly talked about cards.

Autumn hit, and with it the coldest weather I ever remembered experiencing. Bone-chilling winds blew off the water, and it rained incessantly. We even got a few days of snow. The mood in the entire city was soddenly dour, except for the oldsters who polished off their dire stories of deadly winters past with ghoulish glee. I wrote things for people, had my meals at nearby inns and restaurants, drank at the Hound and Hawk, and spent a great deal of time at home, reading or working on magical projects.

Then a particularly virulent wave of grippe screamed through the entire southern half of the land, and I managed to catch it. I spent a week aching from head to foot with no energy to do anything but lie in bed wondering if it was going to kill me. Healing spells and potions did virtually nothing, as they appeared to think there was nothing to be healed. They’re nearly miraculous for things like the little knife wound I’d gotten so long before, but when it comes to things like grippe or a head cold, they’re useless. My greatest accomplishment during that time was to fetch water for myself and make the interminable trek down the hall to the facilities and back when I absolutely had to. It was miserable.

I finally recovered sufficiently to make my way creakily across the street to the closest restaurant and take a stab at eating something properly cooked, since I’d been living off whatever I could grab and haul up to my flat most quickly. I’d also reached the conclusion that, heat spells or not, if it was going to remain that cold, I was going to have to buy a hat. I was working my way with careful deliberation through a bowl of stew when I overheard a few other patrons helpfully discussing recent happenings in the area.

Falkirk had been nearly paralysed between the grippe outbreak and the unusual cold. Some people had died, mostly the very old and the very young. Even the Kestrels had virtually disappeared—being Church sanctioned wasn’t proof against sickness or shite weather.

The excitement had all been over in Halberg. The Church had attempted to take back the southern half of the country from the rebel coalition using a combination of Kestrels and hired mercenaries. They’d underestimated their adversaries and it had been a rout—not only had the Church not reclaimed the land they wanted, they’d lost more. A stalwart outpost of Church loyal was stationed in the city of North Bend, but they were fighting a losing battle.

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