Taliesin Ascendant (The Children and the Blood) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the hallway, broken only by hints of illumination from up ahead. Tarnished door handles glinted in the gloom, suggesting abandoned offices or storage areas lining the hall.
    But unlike the parking lot, the corridor was anything but silent. A din of voices carried from deeper in the building, the noise distorted as it reverberated on the walls. Growing steadily warier, she followed Cornelius through the turns of the hallway, emerging finally at the factory floor.
    Despite his request, she balked.
    People were everywhere. Cots crammed the enormous concrete floor, divided one from another by curtains stretched across metal frames. Walkways encircled the expanse beneath a ceiling at least sixty feet high. Grimy skylights filtered light down onto the sea of humanity, all of whom seemed to be talking or crying or yelling at once.
    And each of them was a wizard.
    Unable to breathe, she forced her feet to keep moving as Cornelius didn’t slow. Her gaze darted across the crowds, landing on faces and then flitting away, as she trailed him along the narrow path between the cots and curtains.
    They were all Merlin.
    She fought to take a breath. Of course they were all Merlin. What’d she expect? But the sheer scope of them all in one place was overwhelming.
    People looked over as she passed and, in a slow wave, the din began to fade. Countless faces tracked her, their expressions ranging from nonexistent to fearful, and she saw some mothers turn their children away.
    She struggled not to wince, realizing what she must look like, covered in bloodstains.
    Striding to the far end of the massive room, Cornelius came to a halt at the base of a metal stairway. By the railing, the driver from the sedan stood, his eyes on the middle distance and his face like stone.
    “Are they assembled?” Cornelius asked, glancing to the doors lining the walkway.
    Staring straight ahead, the large man nodded.
    Cornelius started up the stairs.
    As she followed, the driver’s gaze flicked down to her. With Cornelius gone, the man’s impassive expression vanished, transforming into an almost predatory distrust. Quivering at the threat in his eyes, she watched him cautiously as she climbed after Cornelius up the metal steps and onto the walkway.
    At a door several yards from the stairs, Cornelius stopped. He cast a glance to her again, as though confirming something she couldn’t hope to understand, and then he headed inside.
    Around the long conference table dominating the center of the room, a dozen wizards looked up, their conversation coming to a halt. With a motion somewhere between a nod and a bow, Cornelius stepped to one side, affording them a view of Ashe standing beyond the doorway.
    To a person, they went still.
    Her heart began pounding harder. With a glance to Cornelius, she walked into the room, turning slightly as he shut the door behind her. A small thread of his magic raced around the frame, silencing the noise from the factory floor.
    None of the wizards said a word.
    “Ladies and gentlemen,” Cornelius said, turning back to face the room. “May I present Patrick’s daughter, Ashley. Though,” he amended, “she prefers to be called Ashe.”
    He glanced to her. “The Merlin council.”
    The wizards stared, and with everything she had, she suddenly tried to follow Cornelius’ request to not show any reaction. From the aristocratic woman with gold wireframe glasses, to the suit-clad man with oiled black hair, each of them studied her silently.
    She felt like a lab specimen pinned to the wall.
    At the head of the table, one of the wizards pushed to his feet, breaking the stillness. Though he was easily over seventy years old, his face was commanding beneath his silver hair and he carried his tall frame with a quiet authority that made Cornelius’ pale in comparison. His eyes went to Cornelius briefly as he approached, and with a slight bow, Cornelius stepped farther aside.
    Ashe’s heart wanted to climb out of her chest.
    The man’s