The Bridge Beyond Her World (The Boy and the Beast Book 2) by Brandon Barr

Author:Brandon Barr [Barr, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Enchanted Starship
Published: 2016-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

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GALTHESS

Galthess sat at an ancient wood table in the Scriver’s Den, under the flicker of a candle. The Scriver’s Den was a small orifice carved into the granite walls of the vast Consecrators’ Library on Bridge, and was the smallest book collection in the facility, far out numbered by the shelves of philosophers and logicians, pneumalogians and socio-cognitists from both prim and upworlds.

Ninety-seven books and several hundred loose parchments comprised the entirety of the Scrivers’ miscreant writings recovered by the Consecrators. Innumerable more were yet to be found. Scrivers were not too rare, but they were the most difficult for a Sanctuss to bring to deliverance. And of all the Oracles, they were one of the most dangerous, for their destructive work lasted long after their lifetime. Of the few Scrivers’ writings the Consecrators acquired, only a handful were given willingly.

Most had been retrieved with the help of men like him. He and his kind had been around since the dawn of the Guardians. In those early days, they had hunted the Oracles out of fear, trying to curb their ability to inspire blind devotion to the Makers. The histories of the Guardians showed how the order itself experienced an almost identical progression to that of primworlds. A coming of age. A maturity in the growth of ideas. A loss of fear. At present, his kind saw the Makers and their Oracles more fully. There was much less need or urgency for his work.

He was now the sole Oracle hunter.

In his ten years of service, he had ended the lives of six Oracles, in order to rescue worlds from the overzealous grip of Makers and Beasts alike.

Galthess rubbed his fingers over the parchment before him, but his eyes peered out blindly, consumed with a thought.

What were the Makers doing?

He’d spent far too much time here in the Scriver’s Den, scouring over words penned by the hands of Oracles. Over time, the manuscripts in this room had caused a raging storm of curiosity.

And the girl, Winter…was she truly the one? The Contagion?

The door to the Scriver’s Den groaned as the wooden hinges turned.

Galthess did not look up, but stared blankly at the parchment, as if lost in study.

A withered hand came out of the darkness and into the flickering light, coming to rest atop his right hand.

“You work so hard, Galthess,” said the frail voice of Sanctuss Exenia. “Must you always be so diligent?”

Galthess took Sanctuss Exenia’s hand gently in both of his. “The mind of the enemy fascinates me, Sanctuss.”

Mercifully, the Magna Sanctuss removed her hand, and stepped back.

“There may be need for your work, my friend. The Makers and Beasts are slowly squeezing away at the peace we so desperately fight for. Sanctuss Voyanta’s gentle spirit will be irreplaceable.”

“If only sincerity and kindness were more common traits,” said Galthess. “I will miss my talks with her. She had a healing wisdom.”

Sanctuss Exenia sighed. “I’ll never understand why she refused to cover herself. Now who will replace me when I pass?” She shook her wrinkled face.

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