Red Blood (Series of Blood Book 2) by Emma Hamm (best short books to read .TXT) 📕

“Of all the—” she grumbled as she rolled onto her knees. “Do you ever speak in anything but riddles?”

“Not often.”

Standing up proved to be more difficult than she had estimated. She had managed to roll her ankle badly. The heels had seemed like a such a good idea when she had walked out of Haven. Now, she realized that looking good probably wasn’t the best option when meeting a man nicknamed “Graverobber”. It was a chore to stand, but she forced herself upright.

“How is it that you exist?” She wobbled to the side as she tried to gain her balance on one foot.

“Like any other creation that exists. I simply do.”

She watched him as he walked towards the altar once more. He moved as though he were ancient. Each step was slow and calculated.

“But—”

“Do not say it is impossible.”

“But it is!”

“Why? Because they’re all dead?”

Lyra trailed along behind him, limping the entire way. “Well, yes! Magicians weren’t a species; they were an anomaly that accidently happened when the dimensions combined. They weren’t natural, and they weren’t meant to happen. That’s why they were wiped out.”

“That’s the tale everyone seems to tell,” he murmured as he reached the altar and braced his hands against it.

“Is it not the true one?”

“Magic has its ways.” He turned slowly back towards her. “If magic wants something alive, it is.”

“Wow. You’re really going with the ‘magic can do everything’ route?”

He patted his hand against the altar.

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“If you please.”

“I’m not your next sacrifice.”

“I’m not asking you to be a sacrifice. You are bleeding. I would heal you.”

“I didn’t ask for that.” Lyra sniffed. “I’m not getting up there.”

“It is a simple thing for me to do. Please, allow me to apologize for your fright and for the uncomfortable nature of our meeting.”

He had a point. She shouldn’t say no when he was offering something that was truly innocent. But was he a Magician? Really? They were extinct as far as she knew, although she never really knew why. Lyra hadn’t been alive, and the Siren wasn’t the type to remember such trivial information. If it hadn’t pertained to her, then she hadn’t kept the memories.

She braced her hands and pulled herself up onto the stone. She was now eye to eye with the man named both Graverobber and Wolfgang. It was difficult for her to reconcile the man she had met with this monster.

However, now that she was staring into those mismatched eyes, Lyra found she was starting to feel a different way. These were the eyes that had fascinated her for many nights. These were the eyes that made her feel like sparks were erupting from her fingertips.

“Do you mind if I bring Mungus back in?”

The question made tears spark in the corner of her eyes. She wasn’t an emotional person, but she felt as though the day had been sufficiently trying. He was asking if she was going to be okay. He cared about her feelings.

Why did he care about her feelings and yet hadn’t even looked at her body?

“No, I don’t mind,” she murmured.

Truly she didn’t. The skeleton wasn’t worse than the other things she had seen in her life. She had simply been shocked to see something dead standing behind her and had likely overreacted. She hoped.

There were stories that the reanimated were dangerous. That they thirsted for blood or brains. But she couldn’t imagine that the creature had wanted either when it had stayed so calm while she screamed.

She experimentally wiggled her feet as the door opened. Both man and skeleton walked slowly towards her. She suspected their slow gait was partly because Wolfgang could not move very fast and partly because Mungus was allowing her a few moments to get used to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said as they reached her. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just startled.”

Wolfgang raised an eyebrow that had been cut in half by a scar. “He can’t talk you know.”

“What?”

“Do you insist upon using that word so often?”

“Only when you confuse me.”

Wolfgang sighed. “Mungus cannot speak because he has no tongue.”

“Touché,” she said as she looked the dead man over. “Couldn’t you give him a voice?”

“Hmm?” Wolfgang made the confused sound from behind her. He had moved towards shelves while the skeleton remained perfectly still in front of her.

“Well, if you can reanimate him, I don’t see any reason why you can’t give him a voice. I always heard that there was no limit to what Magicians could do.”

The shuffling sound behind her fell silent. Curious, she looked over her shoulder to see him staring in her direction with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

Lyra shrugged. “Well now it has.”

“I shall endeavor to spend some of my time researching such a spell, if it would please you.”

“You’re awfully concerned with things that will please me.”

He walked back towards her with a thick tome in his hands. The leather binding creaked as he opened it. Dust puffed into the air as he flipped through yellowed pages.

“Is it any wonder why?” he asked as he peered at the runes scrawled before him.

“Yes. I would say that’s another of my ‘what and why’ moments.”

He didn’t seem to be paying attention to her. Wolfgang began rattling off ingredients to something that sounded like an awful soup. Mungus began to amble around the room while holding one of its hands inside its rib cage.

Lyra watched with morbid fascination. The dead man used its ribs as a kind of basket. The ingredients would only have the potential to fall through the hole at the base of its ribs which was now clogged with its skeletal hand. Each time he found the thing he needed, Mungus would tilt his head backward and drop the object down what would have been his neck.

“This place is like a dream,” she murmured.

“I have oft heard it compared to a nightmare.”

“Or that.” She looked around the room. “It really does