Dear Muse (Those Whom the Gods Wish to Destroy Book 1) by Shawn Mackey Read Free Book Online Page B

with smiles and nods. Attractive woman were on short supply, a fact that transcended all politics, even for one as adamant as Finney. I suppose he has to hate my father by proxy. With politics, you have moderates and extremists, and then you have men like my father. Though he falls somewhere in between, his actions are the stuff of political nightmare.
    And so, I related the events as promised, along with today’s. Two birds with one stone, tied nicely if I may say so. I can breathe a bit easier and sleep a bit sounder with that heavy burden off my chest. From here on, no more talk of the past. The present is wearisome enough. In the morning, I have a pack of meddlesome children to tame.
    Until tomorrow, my most cherished friend.
     
    Entry 14
     
    Many days have passed since my last entry, and all my aches and pains seem trivial in comparison to the present. Our predicament started with an earthquake. I am far from an expert in seismic disasters, and taking into account my predilection toward the dramatic, calling the event a catastrophe may seem like a hyperbole. The tremor certainly felt apocalyptic. Though it resulted in two deaths and one injury, I suppose it was relatively mild. Another one of nature’s hiccups.
    Every house was affected in some way, whether a broken vase or a cracked wall. The stag’s head landed on my nightstand and split it in half. A few inches to the right and those horns would have pierced my bed. The hearth is full of soot and loose bricks, and other than a few cracks here and there, our house is fine. All but one case has similar damage.
    Dalton’s house crumbled like a flimsy imitation crafted by cards. His wife, Bessy, died from the initial collapse. Poor Dalton did not recover from the sight of her sunken skull, nor his wound. He succumbed to internal bleeding while babbling about his irreconcilable loss. Aiden is shook up by the loss of his friend and cannot get over his last few hours of suffering. Why did he not die with Bessy? Just as the stag’s horn scarcely missed our bed, the cruelty of chance would not let him leave this life without a taste of misery.
    A heavy branch smacked a man (whose name I cannot recall) in the head hard enough to slice his scalp. He is stitched and bedridden, but will live. Some other may have suffered cuts and bruises. I got a splinter when moving the broken nightstand outside. An irritating affliction indeed.
    The strangest was yet to come, not to trivialize the two deaths and my aching thumb. An odd smell has pervaded the air. It could be described as pleasant, if not for the unaccountable origin. My uncle claims it is some sort of subterranean gas leaked during the earthquake. The sweet scent is more like the fragrance of distilled rosewater than noxious miasma. It is an elixir for the senses, yet I cannot shake the dread it instills on the others. I would rather it disappear. Nothing from the hidden crevices can be good for your health.
    After burying Dalton and Bessie, life went on as normal. My uncle has been busy supervising the repairs, and Aiden has been selected to continue the survey of the woods. The whole island was affected by the quake, and though no one wants to mention it directly, we are hunting for the source of that smell. If it truly is a gas, it is likely poisonous, and would confirm the seamen’s rumors of this uninhabitable land. If only the superstitious twits mentioned that instead of ghosts, it would have saved us the trouble!
    I hope this does not become a reality. I have a life in this town. Returning is impossible, but not because of the abandonment of future prospects. Somewhere, there is a death certificate with my old name on it.
     
    Entry 15
     
    I quarreled with my uncle. He insists the smell has dissipated, and though Aiden backs his claim, the stink hovers around my nostrils, wafting in each breath. My nose should have grown accustomed to its familiarity by now. It does so for the worst of stenches, so why not the