Restart Again: Volume 2 by Adam Scott (hardest books to read txt) 📕

pang of sadness I felt at the thought of her leaving. I wouldn’t want it any other way. She’s stuck with me as much as I’m stuck with her.

A particularly warm sunbeam shone down across my chest from the thin barred windows of the wagon, and I suddenly found myself struggling to stay awake. When she’s ready, Lia will tell me how she’s feeling. We’ll talk it out and...A yawn interrupted my train of thought momentarily. Everything will be alright. Having tossed and turned for most of the night prior, I was perfectly content to doze until Lia needed me. With a relaxed sigh I gave up the fight against my sleep-deprived brain and drifted off.

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My face stung as wind and heavy sleet whipped against my cheeks. It melted and ran down to collect in the ragged salt-and-pepper beard which was tangled and frozen in the winter weather. As I trudged up the hill through knee deep snow, I traced a finger around the handle of the manasteel sword on my hip with exaggerated movements. Although I couldn’t see them, I knew there were people watching me, and they needed to know I wasn’t looking to be disturbed.

Even in the perpetual darkness of the storm, I knew where I was going; it was a path I had walked too many times to forget. As the slope leveled out, my destination finally came into view: a modest stone structure, thirty feet on each side and unadorned with any decoration or iconography, partially obscured by snow drifts at the top of the hill. The walls were made of a glossy black stone that looked to be carved from one solid piece, with no indication of an entrance on any side.

As I made my final approach, I reached into the breast pocket of my thick woolen coat and retrieved a tiny golden cylinder. It was the size of my pinky finger, with three uneven metal rods on one end and a cone-shaped spiked mesh on the other. When I reached the wall, I brushed a layer of snow and ice away to reveal a divot in the stone about the size of an apple. I pulled the glove from my right hand with my teeth and carefully pushed the cylinder into a small slot, and was rewarded with a small click as the three metal prongs found their sockets.

I pressed my thumb down hard onto the top spike of the device, puncturing my scarred flesh. Rivulets of blood flowed through the metal mesh into an unseen chamber, and the cylinder instantly whirred to life. Dull blue light shone up through the spiked top as a mechanism inside spun noisily. After a few moments of waiting, the wall before me trembled and began to sink into the floor, revealing a well-lit chamber within.

Kicking the snow from my boots against the outside wall, I retrieved the golden tube and entered the structure. A pale blue fluorescent light shone from the delicate crystals of a chandelier hung in the center of the room, casting wispy shadows out behind the sparse furnishings. Underneath the chandelier, raised slightly on a dais, sat a white marble sarcophagus. The sides were pristine lacquered rock, but the lid was covered in a carving of a large dahlia flower.

A long end table sat to the right of the sarcophagus, covered in tiny wooden figurines. I had lost count over the years, but I knew there were at least eighty figures in total. One wooden chair faced the sarcophagus, clearly showing its age with a cracked leather cushion and splintered feet. Immediately to my left at the entrance was a round stone pillar which stood about waist high. The flat top had the same indentation as the wall outside, and I slotted the glowing golden cylinder inside.

The exit closed up behind me in response, giving me a respite from the raging storm at my back. I crossed the room and sat down in the old chair, letting out a low groan of relief as I allowed my aching joints to decompress. For a while I sat in silence and stared at the sarcophagus wordlessly with my mind blank. It grew more difficult for me to put words to my thoughts as the days passed, and I had already said everything a hundred times over anyway.

“I brought you a new figurine today.” My voice squeaked and cracked with disuse. I reached into my front pocket and pulled out the carving. It was the size of a deck of playing cards, chiseled into the vague shape of a deer. “It’s an elk...or it’s supposed to be, anyway. I’m not quite as good as I used to be.” I showed my scarred hands to the sarcophagus with a low chuckle. “The trembling makes it difficult.” Carefully, I found a spot for it among the other figures and set it gently on the table.

I paused as I noticed the nearest group of carvings looked to be almost identical to the elk I had just set down. “Oh,” I said, disappointed, “I guess I already made you this one a few times.” My face fell, and my hand instinctively reached to the comforting grip of my sword; somehow, just touching the metal seemed to clear my mind and give me a renewed feeling of vigor. “I’ve been a bit forgetful lately. I have to write myself notes and pin them in places I see every day to make sure I...remember what’s going on.”

The phrase brought up a fresh memory, and my face darkened as I continued to speak to the empty room. “They came to the lab again today. Only three of them this time, but I think they’re getting smarter. One even managed to find the door. Not that it could ever figure out how to get it open.” I brushed the golden band in the handle of my sword with my thumb and stared vacantly through it, remembering. “If it weren’t for the combat enhancements, they