Bridge Beyond Her World (Song of the Worlds Book 2) by Brandon Barr

Author:Brandon Barr [Barr, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

BRIDGE

Chapter Seventeen

WINTER

Winter held Aven’s hand as she stood before the portal, which rested atop a small hill of volcanic rock. She watched as group after group disappeared into one side of the portal, while other groups materialized on the opposite side. Fourteen parties waited ahead of her, some accompanied by as many as five companions. Seven were solo travelers. Karience said some of them were probably Emissaries returning to their home world from a mission.

Arentiss stood next to Aven. Pike stood between Zoecara and Karience. Winter looked over and found Pike’s eyes were on her, a look of concern in them. She averted her gaze quickly.

“How are you holding up, Winter?” asked Pike.

The sincerity in his voice touched her heart, despite herself.

“I’m alive,” she said. She hid her face against Aven’s shoulder.

She wanted to tap a message to him, but she didn’t have the words to express her feelings. Her thoughts were filled to overflowing with what had happened and all she had learned.

She remembered Sanctuss Voyanta’s body lying on the floor, and the unusual expression on her face. It was profound, but impossible to interpret. Had it been the highest elation—or the deepest agony imaginable? How could such contradictory expressions appear so similar?

Winter hadn’t replied when her brother had first tried to comfort her, not even with her fingers. In those first moments, she’d only wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

Then more Consecrators had arrived and asked her if she had touched the Sanctuss. Winter had nodded, and they explained why she died. When an Oracle undergoes a deliverance, they disavow the Makers and their calling, and the Oracle’s power fades away. However, if that former Oracle ever comes in skin-to-skin contact with an undelivered Oracle, her life is taken by the Makers. The Consecrators called it ‘the burning vengeance.’

After that, Winter had started speaking again. “I want to go home,” she’d said. Repeatedly.

The Consecrators had resisted, but Karience came to her defense, and a compromise had been made. A Consecrator would come to Loam to finish the interview. Karience had also insisted that they wait a week before showing up, to give Winter time to rest and recover from her ordeal. When they initially refused, Karience had become fierce in her defense of Winter, and made it clear that this was not up for negotiation.

Winter hadn’t said anything while they argued. All she wanted was to leave this horrible world called Bridge. Nothing else mattered except to get away as quickly as she could.

Dicameron was there while it was happening, quietly watching the Consecrators as he oversaw the removal of Sanctuss Voyanta’s body. Winter looked up and noticed his eyes on her. When she did, she recognized something in them. Something like fear.

She didn’t blame him. What was she now? What did it mean that her touch could kill?

Her world felt profoundly shaken. It seemed to her that the Makers had silenced the kindly Sanctuss. But why would they do so? Was she killed because she dared

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