Gods of Fire
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Mater approached me on the dance floor, drawing me from Sanctus and the Accendium. “It’s time, Lunam.” I nodded. “Go get dressed, I’ll have Sanctus watch the Accendium. Meet at the stage?”
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Six weeks passed with few outstanding events. Sanctus’s back healed from the stitches, leaving behind itchy scabs that drove him up the wall. He went daily to see Medicus after we dropped Sam and Abby off at Argenti’s together. Within a week and a half of our conversation about his embroidery, he joined with Vestitor…
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“Better?” I asked as Sam and I left Forceps. He nodded, running his hands through his hair happily. “Wanna go get your sister and have lunch?” We walked down the hall and back out to the shop floor.
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The library was buried deep at the opposite end of the facility from my rooms. The place used to be a documents library where blueprints and print media had been kept when the warehouse had functioned. The stairs were dark, and a lamp was the best help we had down it. We needed to get…
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“You knew him?” Medicus asked as he held pen to paper. He didn’t sound surprised. I had no idea what he was thinking, but man if I could have peeled Medicus’s brain open and got a dig at what was turning in it, I would have paid my right ball for the opportunity.
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Morning graced my window, illuminating the room in soft orange cream. I went to stretch and bumped into something. I drew in a startled breath, only to remember that Sanctus had climbed into bed with me last night. His breathing was soft, but told me he was on the verge of waking. I eased up…
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“Medicus! Got your man here,” I greeted as we entered the secondary building on our compound. It had been a concrete block office at some point in it’s past. Now it proved to be our hospital and infirmary. Two patients at a time was it’s capacity. If we had an all out war and enough…
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The air lay hot and sticky at the tip of my tongue. High summer in the capital had finally made itself known. Nile bay was steaming under the dome panels. Our vents and fans had been malfunctioning for some time now, ever since my late father, the last Pharoah, had commanded troops in his youth.…
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The Chambers always made my skin crawl. It was a converted cathedral. The ceilings soared above me, and the main room that used to be the chapel echoed ominously. The stone brickwork was the washed-out ashen colour of corpses. The stained glass had been smashed out so long ago no one remembered. The glittering jagged…
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Ever taste copper? That cloying metal viscosity that tells you pain will soon follow? Or maybe that charcoal burn taste of ash on your food when you’ve grilled it? I despise that taste. I crave it.
Chapel Orahamm 