Nightfall (Book 1) by L. R. Flint Read Free Book Online Page B

small note from Koldobika, that I still carried in my pocket, and I abandoned them to a random conversation about the antics of someone-or-other. I wandered haphazardly through the streets of Caernadvall as I slowly made my way home, hoping to find an open fire somewhere along my path.
    The setting sun had begun sending rays of crimson, yellow, orange, and other shades across the skies before I found what I was looking for. An old man sat wrapped in a threadbare blanket on a small crate next to a fire in an old iron basket hugging the stone wall of a short building. I greeted the man kindly as I approached and then tossed the paper into his fire, engaging him in small talk as I watched the remains of the parchment succumb to the flames and turn to smoke and ash. “May good fortune go with you,” I said graciously as I walked away. The man nodded his thanks, smiling for what was likely to be both the first and last time that week. It pained me to see so many people homeless and without a caring hand in their lives, but there was nothing I knew that I could do that would make a permanent difference for any of them.

5 VISITOR
     
     
    While I walked through the overshadowed streets I caught a quick glimpse of someone, wreathed in darkness, slipping in and out of the shadows behind me. While wondering who my pursuer was, I recalled the dream I had had of Alaia and I laughed at the preposterous idea that it was coming true after all. This notion played through my mind and I began paying more and more attention to what was behind me, rather than what was ahead of me.
    I turned a street corner, the soft moonlight slipping down through the air around me, and I failed to notice a shadow scurrying behind a large crate. As I walked past the hiding place I was hit hard in the back with a worn short staff; instinctively I rolled to the side, ignoring the small pain I felt. The hard slab of wood shattered on the ground where my head had just been and I jumped to my feet. I realized my opponent was a mere boy as I got a quick look at his young, gaunt face in the moonlight. Mud and dirt were smeared on his face and his bright eyes stared at me with a hungry look in their depths. He pulled a knife from his clothes and attempted to stab me, but I snatched his hand and wrested the weapon from his grip. I grabbed his free arm and wrenched it behind his back, holding it there to ensure that he would not try and attack again. “What are you doing?” I asked. He whimpered but refused to reply, seeing it as his own way of maintaining a small amount of control over the situation. “If I let you go, will you promise not to attack me again?” I asked.
    “Yeah,” he mumbled. I cautiously let him go and he immediately turned and tried to kick me between the legs; I twisted to the side and his foot slapped my thigh. I grabbed the foot and twisted his leg, pushing him off balance. I knelt and held him down with my knee pushed into the small of his back, his arms once again secured behind him.
    “How old are you?” I asked, losing patience and wondering if I was pointlessly trying to be nice to the younger boy. There was no honor in killing a child and I had no means to tie him up while I disappeared.
    “I do not know,” he growled.
    “Well you look about nine to me,” I said. “What is your name?”
    He was silent for a moment and then he said, “You really think I am nine?”
    “Yeah,” I said, barely masking my annoyance. “What is your name?” I repeated.
    “Is ‘mongrel’ a name?” he asked curiously. “It is what the Guards call me.”
    I held back a chuckle at his naivety. “No. But I have a good one for you: Beñat. Do you like it?” I eased my knee from the boy’s back and he crawled into a cross-legged sitting position in front of me, his eyes lit with wonder and he asked skeptically if I was actually giving him a name. I nodded and he asked what it meant.
    “Brave Bear,” I replied. The boy was awestruck that I was