My Very Own Witch Hunter by Harrison Paul

Author:Harrison Paul
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: angels, fantasy, epic, superhero, teen action adventure, teen 13 and up
Publisher: Harrison Paul

CHAPTER TWELVE

Murderer

Out my window, I saw the funeral procession for the student who'd died the previous night. Nobles dressed in black coats and dresses stood beside the coffin, with one of the blue-robed sages reading from a book at the head of the crowd. The sun shone in the sky behind the clouds, and I blinked until I could see straight. I'd slept later today because of my injuries. The cold bit at the throbbing wound in my shoulder, but the numbness had subsided and my bruises weren't as serious as I'd thought.

I stared at the funeral outside, watching snowflakes settle on the black hats of the noblemen attending. I ached to know who'd been killed last night. And how it had happened.

I hauled myself out of bed, groaning from the pain of stiff joints and sore limbs. I pulled on a plain black dress and washed the dirt and dust out of my hair. "What's happening to me?" I asked my mirror image as I tried to repair the damage of last night's encounter. I couldn't cover up the dark circles under my eyes or the tense, haggard face muscles. I thought about collapsing on my bed and not getting up until the student hunting parties went out in the afternoon. But no, I couldn't do that. Then everyone would be suspicious about why I wasn't out and about. "Everyone" meaning the Angel, whomever he actually was.

Snow fell outside in a great white sheet over all the greenery, even landing in little piles on the hats of the funeral attendees. I glanced to my coat rack for a suitable coat to ward off the chill. My eyes fell on Mikael's cloak. As I slipped it on, I was impressed by how warm it was. It also blended well with my black dress. I idly wondered if Mikael was watching me put on his cloak right now. I glanced at the window, feeling a little like ants were crawling under my skin. I knew he'd promised not to watch me in my room, but that didn't remove the sensation that I was being watched.

My fluffy black boots soothed my aching feet as I slipped into the Vormund tower hallways. I passed scribes with rolls of parchment and soldiers striding purposefully with their hands clasped over their sword hilts. No one stopped me as I left the Order, but the empty foyer struck me as odd. I was used to seeing Will and Mira here. I hoped they had returned to the sagekeep safely.

I hurried down the stairs and through the vaulted central chamber. A chorus of sages chanted ancient hymns to the Angels in the back, their deep voices filling the chamber. How could they praise the Angels while those same Angels murdered the students of the city? Did they still believe that the Angels would save them, or that they weren't responsible for the attacks? None took notice of my passage as they continued their chant.

I found Mira and Will at the funeral.

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