Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives Read Online Free PDF Page B

I've got it in my hands, Ray pulls it back and says: "You sure there's nothing else going on?" She sighs deeply. "I've always been truthful with you, Juno. I've been a friend to you. You can trust me."
    I nod. That was true, but Ray and I are hardly good friends. I think of her more as a desperate clinger trying to improve her social standing by befriending the High Deacon's daughter. "Ray, there's nothing else to tell," I say. And with that, Ray finally seems satiated. She hands me the mug. I down it in a single go.
    "Hey! That was supposed to last me all day!" she protests. "Where's the coffee I got you this morning?"
    "Gone," I shrug. "Already drank it. Thanks, by the way." I hand the mug back.
    "Yeah, you're welcome, Juno," Rayanne grumbles. "For everything." With that, the plump girl stalks away into the corn, green leaves rustling reddish-blonde hair cut in the same fashion as mine.
    "Whatever," I reply to myself, gripping my machete and, with fresh coffee coursing through my veins like wildfire, start hacking at the corn as if I am fighting it for my life.
     
     
     
     
    5.
     
    I leave work just after the eighteenth hour, the warmth of the Eversummer sun feeling like a cold draft on my skin after twelve hours in the Gardens. Usually, I would take Mainstreet across the bridge and cut through the business district t o get home, but tonight I crisscross alleyways and parks in order to avoid prying eyes. It works, mostly, as I only run into a few people I know along the way. I can tell that they all want to talk to me, but I brush them off before our cursory small talk goes any further. I slip into our yard through the back wall door and stalk cautiously across the browning lawn to the wide double doors that open onto the patio. Yeah, we have a big house. A nice house. Two stories. But my Father's the High Deacon. The most powerful man in Krakelyn can't be seen living in squalor, can he?
    It's all a joke, in my opinion.
    Wealth never mattered to me; Jude's family lives in little better than a shack down by the docks. Everything about my house feels fake to me; like it was made to prove how much better we are than everybody else. I've never thought myself better than anyone in my life. Okay, well, maybe Rayanne, but she's annoying.
    Every window in the M anse is ablaze with fiery sparklights; it's cloudy at the moment, so the ever present sunlight is muted. Sparklights are another luxury we could do without, in my opinion. It's bright outside all the time. Why bother? Very few homes in Krakelyn have sparklights. They require specialized knowledge to operate. Copper cords run out of an oil fed machine spouting noxious fumes at the back of our property. I don't fully understand it myself, but I always thought candles worked just as well.
    I slip t hrough the patio doors, open to permit fresh air into the building. One of the serving women, Ryonyx, greets me upon entering with a smile. "You're just in time," she says. "Dinner is about to be served."
    "I'll eat later," I reply curtly. "Is my Father home?"
    "He is," Ryonyx replies. "But he is in his study, and is not to be disturbed."
    "He'll want to see me,” I grin.
    Passing more servants, I come to the wide, balustraded main stairwell and head up to the second floor. Paintings, tapestries, and golden candelabras line the hall, but I hardly notice them anymore. As I said, it all feels fake to me. I pass Traylor's room. The door is wide open, my little brother passed out on his bed, already snoring softly. I smile and continue on to the door at the end of the hall. 
    My Father's study.
    I knock and a deep, intimidating baritone answers from the other side.  
    "Come."  
    I open the door, not wasting any time. My Father's study is a small room, compared with the rest of the Manse, but it feels positively claustrophobic to me. Relics of the Forerunners line shelves and hang from every wall, cluttering every square inch of available space. Many of the objects were