Enchanter's Echo Read Online Free PDF Page B

beloved elephant fountain remained a partially crumpled heap on the park’s northeast quadrant. To prod the park committee into action, he’d finally had a new mailbox installed. The former blue metal hump that had hidden the bomb had been replaced with a glass one—see-through and strengthened with spells to ensure it was indestructible. There would be no hiding deadly weapons in this one.
    He’d publicly taken the crystalline hump’s virginity with the fat census envelope while the reporters’ image spells snapped around him. The background of the pictures would clearly show the committee’s lack of work on the fountain.
    Edmund always played his part to bring their mages peace, to lead them into their future, whether he wanted the job or not.
    His mother nodded. “I heard. Nice move.”
    “Yep. I can see the headlines now. Rallis Family Census Heir-Mailed .” He looked over at his brother. “Those reporters are fools if they don’t take advantage of that pun.”
    Vin shrugged. “They’re fools. You better call and suggest it.”
    Their lady mother covered her eyes with a hand but collected her frazzled wits easily. “Since I have you both here, the P.U.R.E. Ball is in two days. You are going, Vincent. And Edmund, you will have a proper date.”
    “Of course, Mother. I’m asking the love of my life to the ball.”
    She stared at the ceiling, exasperation drenching her every vibe. “Just show up with someone appropriate.” Spinning on her heel, she disappeared down the stairs, her footsteps silent, like all well-mannered mages.
    Vincent stared. “I cannot believe she didn’t notice.”
    Neither could Edmund. He wasn’t unique in his ability to sense lies. Many mages could...when they bothered to pay attention. And their mother always paid attention, except, apparently, when Edmund spoke of love.
    “You’re telling the truth.”
    * * * *
    Aurora huddled over the morning newspaper at her usual booth, but her eyes skipped over the words. Instead, Edmund occupied her mind. He’d held that metal eye and blindly believed she’d done nothing worse. Her lips softened, as if in sympathy for his gullibility, but really it was in memory of his kiss. Heat uncurled inside her and rose to the edges of her skin.
    She flicked the paper shut with an annoyed snap. The heir was not gullible. And that kiss needed to be forgotten. She lifted her mug and took a scalding swallow of coffee to drown any remnants of the memory.
    Behind her, bacon sizzled on the grill, the hiss merging with the diner’s sleepy atmosphere. Its scent mingled with yeasty waffles and fresh ground coffee. Though Bleak’s Diner had good food, their coffee was the best in the territory…the best in two territories since she’d not found its equal in Noble Territory either. She could only guess that Bleak added magic beans to his daily grind. Like sunflowers on a rainy day, she was droopy without it.
    She leaned back as Izzy paced over, coffee pot in hand. The waitress’s bright yellow hair, bobbed but spiky at the ends, swished in time with her pace. The tips of her spikes were a rainbow of colors that matched the tiny beads in her nose ring.
    “I heard a rumor about you.” Izzy poured the hot stream of caffeine into Aurora’s mug, then set the coffee pot on the table and rubbed at her scarred fingers.
    Aurora closed her eyes, but it was too late. The roar of the bomb exploded in her mind. The cloud of fire burned her face as if it were in front of her all over again. Its thunder had silenced everything. When it had receded, it left the screams and moans of the dying in its place. Her mind processed the memories like snapshots of sounds and sights, Merida dominating many of them, begging, pleading, demanding her help. Around them, fate’s chaos squeezed them together, binding Aurora to her future.
    “I heard you have a sweetheart.” Izzy said, oblivious to the horror that held Aurora’s mind. The waitress was another survivor of the bomb,