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Authors: Nessa L. Warin

Storm Season (28 page)

BOOK: Storm Season
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“You can’t put it off forever,” a voice at Jasper’s side said, and he looked to see a young woman, her hair bound back in a braid and her expression as wary as Jasper’s. “They’ll know.”

“Who will?”

“Them.” The woman pointed toward the temple with her chin. “Don’t know how, but they always know if you skip. It’s better to just get it over with than get a visit. Unless you want to be the talk of the town, of course.” She shuddered dramatically.

Jasper laughed and shook his head. At first glance, the woman reminded him of Carla, though there was a weariness about her that years of hauling goods between Crittenden and Brightam’s Ford hadn’t given Carla, and his friend would only put on a long dress like this woman was wearing if she had no other choice. “No, I’d prefer to avoid that.”

“Me too.” The woman sighed, her body deflating in a way that made Jasper feel even wearier, and shrugged. “Well, come on then. Let’s get it over with. Maybe it’s better if you’re not alone.”

Jasper didn’t know what they were going to do, but based on the looks of the people walking in and out of the temple, he doubted anything would make it better. “Maybe,” he said dubiously as he fell into step with the woman. “I doubt it, though. They probably have some secret way to make it worse.”

He’d hoped she would give some clue about what they would be doing inside, but instead, she just nodded her head and led the way to the line walking into the temple. No one else in line was talking either, and he took his cue from them, watching everything the people in front of him did so he wouldn’t make any mistakes. His clothes didn’t stand out—Brightam’s Ford fashion apparently fitting in with the variety in Shaleton—but he couldn’t help but feel that the men standing on either side of the door were going to notice something off about him and stop him before he crossed the threshold. Instead, they gave Jasper the same impassive stare they gave every person entering the temple, and he barely contained a sigh of relief as he passed through the doors and out of their sight.

Inside, the building was no less foreboding. Candles flickering in sconces along the walls provided the only light, leaving the center aisle in near darkness and hiding most of the details from Jasper’s view. Those that he could make out were baffling, unlike any place of worship he’d ever entered. Those were usually open and airy, designed to let in as much sunlight as possible and to move with the storms rather than stand strong against them. This was a fortress, with rows of benches separated by a narrow aisle, and thick poles reaching up to the ceiling that reminded Jasper of trees. Perhaps it was his recent experience, but the place felt uncannily like the forest, and with each step he took, his unease grew.

The altar, for lack of a better term, was the stump of a tree large enough that Jasper couldn’t stretch his arms across it, and behind it stood an ornate wooden chair. It was unoccupied, something the people in front of Jasper seemed to take as a good sign, and a man and a woman, both dressed like the men who had taken Tobias, tattoos and all, knelt on either side of it. They watched with sharp gazes as each person knelt in front of the altar in turn, clasped their hands behind their back, and stretched their neck out over the wood so they could press their lips against it.

When it was his turn, Jasper mimicked the pose, leaning forward as far as he could and feeling horribly exposed as he waited for the knock that signaled he was allowed to move. Again, he felt as though the pair could see right through him and knew he was an impostor only looking for a way into the secretive parts of the temple. He could feel their scrutiny, his spine tingling as their gazes bore into the top of his head, but just as he was certain that he’d been discovered, the knock came.

Jasper rose to his feet as swiftly as he could without seeming rushed, trying to keep his body from shaking as he fought hard against the urge to run as quickly as he could. He had to force his feet to move slowly as he followed the line of people along the outer wall toward the door, and it wasn’t until he was halfway there that he noticed the alcoves between the flickering candles and the men and women positioned in each of them. They were dressed like all the others, their tattoos not quite as elaborate as the ones on the pair by the altar, but visible, and as he looked as well as he could without turning his head, Jasper noticed that the ones with the more elaborate tattoos were stationed in the prime positions.

The journey out seemed to take twice as long as the journey in, the gaze from each alcove boring into him as he walked past. The line was spaced farther apart going out than it had been coming in, the time each of them spent with their heads on the altar ensuring that there was only ever one person in front of each alcove at a time. No distractions that way; no chance to team up, no hope that someone else would distract a guard and give Jasper a chance to slip by. However he got to the back of the temple, it wouldn’t be through the main doors.

By the time Jasper made it outside, the sky was overcast with another brewing storm, but it still felt like a breath of fresh air. He paused the moment his feet hit the cobblestones of Center Square, sucked in a deep breath, and forced his muscles to relax as he tried to will away the tension that had built up just by being inside.

“Keep moving,” a voice said, and Jasper started as he noticed the woman from earlier. “You know this isn’t the place.”

Jasper didn’t, but he remembered seeing everyone hurrying away from the temple and thought about how he’d feel if his exit was blocked by someone taking deep breaths right where he needed to walk, and he flashed her a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he said, keeping his voice low as they started to walk back toward the edge of the square. “It feels so good to leave that I forget sometimes.”

“We all do, but I heard they’re looking for a sacrifice. Don’t give them a reason to make you one.” The woman paused and looked up at Jasper when they reached the edge of the square. “If I were you, I’d go straight back to wherever you need to be. Today isn’t a day to hang around.”

It didn’t seem like any day was a day to hang around, but with the storm threatening and the temple looming over the square, Jasper could see how today was particularly bad. “I will,” he said, nodding at her and tipping an imaginary hat. “Thank you.”

“Stay safe,” the woman said, and then she vanished down a side street before Jasper could return the sentiment.

 

 

J
ASPER
took her advice to an extent, heading straight back to the inn, but he only stayed long enough to wait out the afternoon storm. By the time night fell, bringing with it more storms, Jasper was tucked into one of the abandoned stalls in Center Square, watching as the last of the Shaletonites filed out of the temple and headed toward the safety of their homes. He stayed through the first rumble of thunder, watched as the temple doors closed against the rain, and steeled his nerves when a flash of lightning revealed that the square was completely empty and the temple front devoid of anyone who might be watching.

Pulling his jacket up over his head as meager protection from the rain that lashed against his exposed skin, Jasper ran across the square. His feet slid on the water-slick stones, making it hard to gain ground, but he pressed forward, ignoring the rain and the thunder and focusing on getting across the square before the water turned to ice. He made it, barely, reaching the building just as another flash of lighting lit up the sky and the drumming of rain was joined by the clicking of hail hitting the cobblestones.

The temple provided a little shelter from the storm, its towering height working with the slight angle of the precipitation to create a small, sheltered area. Jasper huddled in it, one shoulder pressed up against the polished black stone as he slowly made his way around the building, looking for a service door or a window or anything that might gain him entry into the temple. Tobias was inside—Jasper could feel it—but the knowledge did him no good without a way to get in and, more importantly, a way to get Tobias out.

The front of the building yielded nothing, just as Jasper had expected, but there were alleys along either side of the building and a street along the back. There had to be another entrance somewhere. The room Jasper had been in was huge, but it hardly took up the whole building, and he doubted that members of The Order took deliveries or did daily business through the main temple doors. He just had to find where they did and then maybe he could sneak through.

He’d deal with the issues of finding Tobias and getting back out once he got inside.

The rain whipped directly into Jasper’s face when he rounded the corner, and he squinted against it, searching more by feel than sight. His right hand pressed against the stone while his left hand shielded his eyes as best he could manage. The building on the other side of the alley worked with the temple to create a wind tunnel, and Jasper was forced to bend almost double under a sudden onslaught of water and ice which threatened to push him back several times as he tried to continue his search.

It yielded nothing, though in the dark and rain he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t missed something. If he didn’t find anything along the back of the building, he’d try again, but at the moment he was too relieved that the rain was coming from his side instead of falling directly into his face to notice much else. Holding up his left hand to protect his eyes, Jasper started along the back of the building, looking for openings in the stone.

Ten steps in, he found one, a small depression in the wall that was barely visible in the darkness. Even in daylight, the shadows of the building would make it difficult to find for anyone who didn’t know the location, and Jasper’s heart sped up when he pressed his hand against the depressed surface and discovered that it was metal instead of rock. This was the entrance he was looking for.

Slowly, Jasper reached for the handle, a slight groove in the metal that drew no more attention than the door did. He was so close, and with Tobias on the other side of that door, Jasper could practically taste his victory. The rain and sleet ceased to matter as he turned, putting his back toward the street and curling his fingers around the handle.

He was just about to pull when hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away from the door, and a low voice growled into his ear. “Don’t!”

Chapter 20

 

 

J
ASPER
lashed out, swinging his arm in a wide arc as he tried to twist away from his captor. His fist connected with something solid, and he cursed as another set of hands grabbed it, stopping it midswing. “Get off!” he yelled, struggling as the first pair of hands slid down to wrap around his chest and pinned him against the solid body of the person behind him.

He struggled more, kicking out in the hopes that he could slide from the man’s grasp, but the arms just squeezed, lifting him up instead of letting him slide down. “Jasper!”

This time, Jasper recognized the rough voice, and stopped struggling. “Darius?”

“Yes!” The arms loosened and Jasper stepped away to peer at his friend. Carla was hovering by his side, one hand pressed to her cheek where Jasper’s flying arm had clearly hit her. “What are you two doing here? How did you get here?”

“Train.” Darius grabbed Jasper’s arm and tugged him toward the empty street. “Come on.”

“But they aren’t running now. How—” A crash of thunder cut Jasper off.

Darius narrowed his gaze and tugged harder on Jasper’s arm. “We’ll tell you when we’re somewhere safe and dry,” he said, glancing up at the sky and frowning as water pelted his face. The storm was getting worse, more hail mixing in with the rain and the wind whipping furiously down the empty street. “We can’t stay here.”

Jasper wanted to protest, but before he could, Carla took his other arm. Between them, she and Darius all but dragged Jasper across the street, down another alley, and around a corner, where they paused in front of a building that seemed to be another inn. Carla kept hold of Jasper’s arm while Darius unlocked the door with a large key, and together they pushed him inside, sending him stumbling ahead of them as though he might run back to the temple if they didn’t force him inside.

They weren’t entirely wrong.

The moment the door clicked shut behind Darius, Jasper whirled on his friends. “What in clear skies are you doing? Where are we?”

“Our inn,” Darius said, locking the door from the inside. “Come on.”

Carla put her hand on Jasper’s back and started to guide him down the hall. “We’ll explain once we’re in our room.”

Her touch and tone were soothing, but they weren’t the ones Jasper wanted, and as he followed Darius down the hall, Carla by his side, her hand felt more like it was holding him back then urging him forward. He understood why they didn’t want to talk here—the hallway was as empty as the foyer had been but it would only take one door opening at the wrong time for them to be overheard—but that didn’t mean he liked it. He itched to move faster, chafing at Carla’s shorter strides and Darius’s calm pace, and as he watched his friend fiddle with the lock, he thought that maybe he finally understood some of Tobias’s impatience with him.

BOOK: Storm Season
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