Pocket Full of Tinder (A Noon Onyx Novel) by Jill Archer

Author:Jill Archer [Archer, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Pocket Full of Tinder, A Noon Onyx Novel, Jill Archer, fantasy, Dark Fantasy, paranormal, Post-Apocalyptic, demons, angels, Sword & Sorcery, new adult
Publisher: Black Willow, LLC
Published: 2016-12-15T07:00:00+00:00

14

DOMESDAY WEAPONS

It was a bit eerie, staring at myself.

I squinted at the familiar figure – a 22-year-old female wearing black pants and a short wool cloak. She stood beside a barghest, a tiger, and a nymph, but though her companions were unusual, my gaze was drawn to her weapon – a fiery pepperbox that flickered dangerously in the hazy greenish-gray mist. Hopefully, the woman and her companions wouldn’t flicker tellingly as well. Fara and I had argued about the weapon, but she’d insisted the gun would look the most confident – if only because it was the most unpredictable.

The spell was called Simulacrum. Fara had recently learned it and suggested we use it this afternoon for our meeting with Acheron. Considering that the river demon had chosen the Memento Mori dam site as the venue for our meet, I’d readily agreed. Even if my father hadn’t warned me to use “extreme caution” when meeting him, I would have anyway. After all, this was the place where a dozen people had lost their lives only three short months ago.

The Hyrke workers who were normally on site had been sent home. Tonight was Frigore Luna—the night I’d promised to spend with Cliodna—and the Hyrkes were more than happy to have the afternoon off. In their place, hidden in the cliffs, was my team from this morning’s melee – three bunyips and one argopelter. Never one to neglect details, Fara had also brought white thorn and marshmallows. (Acheron was a magnus stilio. White thorn was a natural stilio repellent and marshmallows were a nice, non-bloody, offering.)

“Maybe he’s wary too,” Fara said. “Of coming out into the open. If he senses a handful of demons lying in wait around his suggested meeting spot, what do you think he’ll think?”

“That he should have met us at the rotunda tonight,” I grumbled. The viaduct was fifteen miles southeast of Rockthorn Gorge. It’d taken us over an hour to get here via handcar on the riverside rail tracks. Acheron hadn’t specified that we come alone, but he had specified “middle of the bridge.”

In the middle of the viaduct, Fara’s nymph simulacrum scratched Virtus beneath his chin while mine raised the pepperbox, took aim, and pretended to shoot a mountain raven. I groaned.

“What is it doing? I don’t act like that.”

“I think the spell’s wearing off,” Fara said. “Do you want me to recast it?”

“No,” I said, rising up from my crouched position. “Give me the marshmallows. I’m sick of waiting.”

Fara, glamoured in the same way as her nymph simulacrum, looked as though she might argue but then relented and handed me the lunch pail Tenacity had given us. After a moment’s hesitation, I stepped out from where I’d been hiding and walked toward the viaduct. I stopped when I got to the end, though. I wasn’t going to walk out onto it until Acheron showed himself.

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long.

I felt him before I saw him. His signature was sluggish, but also powerful, like the relentless rise of a river during a flood.

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