Black and Orange Read Online Free PDF

going to do something like that is just another check on the to-do list, because you don’t want to get too gloomy . Oh hell no. Don’t let a tumor get in the way of all your fun.”
    “I want to see your point.” Martin cranked back his new beer.
    She took a deep, trembling breath. “I can’t even have the dignity to die like a normal, self-absorbed American. I’m too damned worried we’ll have another bad October 31 st .”
    “They’re all bad.”
    “You know what I mean. Tony—”
    He sighed. “Teresa, I was enjoying myself just a second ago.”
    “I saw—got a whole eyeful back there.”
    The beer tasted sour now. “Don’t start. Come on. Look, you have to take care of yourself. For a change. I can’t help a woman who refuses to be helped.”
    She slid out another clove. “You’re fooling yourself, kid. I can’t help her either.”
    He grasped her clove hand. “Just stop,” he whispered.
    Carefully, she wiggled her hand free.
    “The gateway might open forever this year, so let’s knock off the foolishness and talk strategy,” he said. “Last year we set mantles on a perimeter that the Church never even crossed. It was a wasted effort. We could have saved our energy.”
    “Your idea.”
    Martin cleared his head for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, I got Tony killed.”
    The bartender glanced over but they ignored him. Teresa lit the end of the new clove with a splintered match. After several generous draws, she went sideways on her stool. He almost grabbed her arm to yank her back but didn’t get the chance. Mabel, the woman in the orange dress, stood a foot away now, completely changing the subject.
    “Are you taking Route 66 all the way through Arizona?” Mabel asked.
    Teresa and Martin, knocked off guard, shook their heads in synchronization.
    “A lot of people try to go as far as they can.” Mabel presented all her perfect teeth. She is something else , thought Martin. Had he seen her before? What had brought them here? A flat tire, or something unseen?
    “Good luck on your trip. Don’t forget our little bar next time you travel through this township.” Mabel stuck out a hand. Martin took it and consumed it in his own. She brought her other hand over and pressed her thumbs into his wrist, gently rubbing circles there. Her eyes caught his for a moment before she released. Mabel shook Teresa’s hand in the same fashion. When their eyes unlocked Teresa’s gaze looked degaussed.
    Mabel gave the bartender a peck on the bearded cheek. “I’m going back to study, daddy.”
    It was only too apparent. The bartender loved being called daddy. His eyes never left Mabel’s slight sashay until she was out of the miserable little bar. With her going Martin had a sick feeling that he’d never see this woman again. But Mabel was a stranger, after all, so why was that disturbing?
    Two beats passed and the bartender said, “Another Newcastle?”
    Martin indulged another beat and then nodded.
    “Give me one too,” Teresa added.

SIX
     
    I am what they call the Messenger in some places, the Interloper in others. That’s a title that some have come to revere, though I can’t explain why. They’ve put me on a higher plane of existence, but I’m not a god. I watch the worlds and read minds. I attempt, in the only way I know, to help my Nomads lessen their burden. I must protect them every day and especially guide them into every October. Martin and Teresa have blood-ties to the Old Domain, but being from this world, they know nothing of its nature.
    While they drank at the tavern, the Church of Morning prepared for the new season on the other side of the gateway in the Old Domain. The church balanced on the thin garnet steps of Azinraith temple. Their devotional number’s hands clasped together, minds locked as one, giving thanks to the new harvest to come. Warm red threads plunked from one temple step to the next, searching for even ground. The flow would eventually reach the base of the steps