The Black Book (The Cycle of the Scour 2) by Edward W. Robertson

Author:Edward W. Robertson [Robertson, Edward W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2020-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

13

I woke to a hustle and bustle I had been part of before: the unique rhythm of the preparation for war.

I found Rowe straight away. "We're going to attack them, aren't we?"

"What gave it away?" he said. "All the weapons? Or that if we don't, they're going to sack Mallon?"

"What's the plan?"

"Isn't one yet. At least not one that they're revealing to people like you and me. But the way they're acting, expect Vara to hit them the second she thinks we're ready."

I didn't need an explanation for her haste: when you find yourself up against sorcerers bent on creating things like wights and undead golems, it's generally best to not give them the time to bring their plans to fruition.

I felt much better after my sleep, and even better yet after I'd had a bath, which I typically don't favor—a certain amount of earthiness is the sign you keep in close contact with the world—but the events of the prior night and morning had given me a little too much of that contact. I found Garold and made sure to let him know I was ready for my next duty, whatever it might be.

He smirked, mustaches twitching. "Whatever it might be?"

"That's my duty, isn't it?"

"Then you best hope I don't decide to have you face off against the bone golem."

"You wouldn't really do that, though. Ah. Would you?"

"You're the fearsome demon-slayer, aren't you? Can't think of anyone better to send in against the monsters."

Garold tipped back his head and laughed loud enough to summon the dead, slapping his own hip, as if he'd made the world's greatest joke. So why did I have the suspicion he wasn't entirely kidding?

The Black Book may have been preparing for battle, but that meant it was all the more vital to maintain the illusion that it wasn't. I'd been allowed to sleep in, but Myla and Lod were already manning the merchant stall, and I hustled across town to join them. I was a little sore from yesterday's exertions, but it wasn't enough to slow me down.

"About time," Myla said as I arrived. "Why even bother showing up if you're going to sleep that late? We'll only be here for another two hours."

"It's not wise to short yourself of your share of sleep," I said. "For one thing, what if our dreams aren't really dreams?"

"What else would they be?"

"The sights we see when we visit another realm of being. You see, clearly this realm is damaging to the body. That's why we get tired and wear down the longer we exist within it. But when we sleep, our minds travel to another place. One that doesn't damage us. One that by all indications restores us, allowing us to persist for another day in this realm. So, like I said. Not wise to short yourself of sleep."

Myla blinked at me. "What lunatic did you get that from?"

"Myself?"

"You're very strange."

A woman approached our tables. Myla turned away to greet her. After this, she said very little, even to our browsers and customers.

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