Crux Read Online Free Page A

stone. My free hand shields my eyes from the glare. Wind starts blowing from nowhere discernable. The gale increases as if the walls of the bank have been blown out by a storm, yet I can still see them. Swirling air wraps my body, elevates me until I no longer feel the floor beneath my feet, pressure gripping my lungs and constricting my breathing.
    Like a Hoover after a dust bunny, I’m sucked into a tunnel of wind. The machine’s engine screams in my ears. My limbs don’t obey my commands to move. My skin stings as if a thousand bees are depositing their venom under my flesh.
    A glance down shows ice melting against the pale skin of my arms, and I realize what I thought were insects are the pelts of driving wind and sleet.
    My vision clears as the sleet thins, disseminating altogether a second later. I am no longer caught in a Hoover, nor standing in the First Bank of Atlanta. Somehow I’ve been transported to an unfamiliar courtyard. Crystallized flakes descend again in heavy sheets against a darkened sky. Silver trees dot the landscape and sway in the gloom. Shrubs and fences drown in the white stuff, engulfed by waves of snowfall.
    A few feet before me, gigantic boulders glint in the night, beckoning me forward until I’m compelled to move closer. My hands are red and raw from cold as I brush snow from the largest rock, revealing chiseled rune lines.

    From behind the boulder, a man glides into the clearing.
    Ohmigosh … freaking … crap! I stumble back.
    Even under the shadow of his woollen cloak, I can make out thick eyebrows bunched over a strong, aquiline nose, and beneath that, a golden moustache and beard, stiff with ice. He’s tall, straight as a pine. My mind screams run, but my feet won’t budge, overruled by curiosity.
    As I gaze into his eyes, my body tenses. Shadows press against the features of his face, enhancing his impressive bone structure.
    Welcome, Rebecca Strong Wing. He doesn’t speak aloud but straight into my mind. Good and evil exist. Who can understand its origins? Through the course of time, one ultimately triumphs over the other. In the end, only one will emerge victorious. This time, we must not fail. A gust of wind picks up speed. Snow swirls around me, obscuring my vision. It tears me from the stranger’s presence until I’m swept into a white vortex. My chest constricts while my arms and legs contort in unnatural positions. As everything around me grows taller, I shrink to nothing. My body drains as though it’s forced through a straw. My eyes squeeze shut against nausea and pain until the whirling stops.
    When I dare peek, I’m back in the little room at the bank. The table catches me as I slump across the surface, exhaling. Snow tumbles off my arms and shoulders, so I know I’m not dreaming. Despite the fact I keep sucking short breaths of air, I’m suffocating. Maybe I’m hyperventilating or having a panic attack.
    I could also be in an asylum, wrapped in a straight jacket and trapped in an illusion of my own making.
    There. It’s finally happened. I’m crazy.
    The necklace slides from my fingers at last and lands with a quiet whisper inside my open pack as though it had aimed itself there. Crazy or not, I have to leave. I shake the snow from my body and race for the curtain. My hand trembles as I grab the fabric and sling it aside.
    Stop, stop. I freeze at my internal demand.
    Running through a bank is stupid. A guard will surely stop me if I freak out.
    I take a deep breath, knees quaking, and force myself to walk.
    A few people still mill about in the bank, proving I wasn’t trapped in the little room long.
    Ms. Blackburn is shuffling files at her desk. She lifts her head as I pass, quirking an eyebrow as she studies my appearance. My lips won’t obey the order to smile, so I stare at her, daring her with my eyes to intervene. A quick glance at her watch and her attention is back on her paperwork.
    That’s right. Just keep pushing those papers, sister. I blow past