Anvil of Tears by Erica Lindquist

Author:Erica Lindquist
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: space fantasy, sci fi, redemption, angel, science fiction, space travel, bounty hunter, fantasy, adviture, fairy

By that afternoon, Maeve still had not decided what to do. When it grew too hot, she rose from her resting spot and wandered aimlessly around the church, pondering her next step.

Bren did not seem to be the only priest in the black cathedral. Perhaps half a dozen other men and women moved about the church with a purposeful stride. For the most part, they spent their time with the sickest of their congregation. They did not administer any kind of treatment. They only sat beside the dying, offering smiling encouragement as though illness were some great achievement worthy of congratulations.

The others clustered inside the cathedral were friendly, in their own way. They shared stories of misery, abuse and hopelessness with the heedless, tired cheer of the terminally ill. Most were sick, wracked by disease or chemical abuse. Many of them were dying. A group of other Arcadians invited her to join them around a dented aluminum bowl. Something inside was burning, filling and overflowing the dish with sweet-smelling, green-tinged smoke. Maeve considered for a moment, then declined and moved on.

As the day plodded on, more converts trickled through the doors. Each was greeted by one of the priests and shown to a squalid patch of their own. Some left once they realized that last night's persuasive speaker was gone, but most remained and joined the sickly congregation, as Maeve had. Bren visited each who stayed, chatting with the newcomers for a minute or two before wandering away again.

Maeve watched and listened. The priest's eyes were not quite as glassy and distant as she had first thought. Bren did not seem wholly devoted to the task of welcoming the new Nihilists, but the princess suspected that his mind was not gone, just elsewhere. Bren was looking at the new converts, but not into their eyes. He was staring at their bodies.

Hours passed and the pillars of dusty light began their slanting westward march. Maeve perched on a pile of crumbled siltstone, studying Bren. He spent mere moments with a plump Lyran woman who held a bundle of ragged puppy's clothes to her breast, but lingered with a gaunt Dailon with a blood-stained bandage around his head, tangled in his ragged black hair. A Hyzaari man with wide, sad green eyes merited scarcely a glance, while he stared at a jittery skeleton of an Arcadian woman for almost an hour. Bren eyed the open red sores on her exposed skin and the thin crust of yellow foam at the corners of her mouth with frank admiration.

He was gauging their health. Bren wanted to know who was dying and who was merely ill. Those closest to their final breath were guided to places in the middle of the open cathedral floor, laid down on dirty beds and pillows in plain view of the congregation. Was it some kind of worship? Gavriel had spoken so lovingly of death… it would follow that his church would put it on reverent display.

Maeve did not know how to feel.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.