Dearest Mother of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) Read Online Free
Author: John Corwin
quip about the good versus evil analogy being spot-on, though technically, neither of those forces was good or bad within themselves. "So, which is what?" I asked.
"The Murk creates. The Brilliance destroys," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The Murk is cold like space, the Brilliance burns like the sun."
"Considering what you and your Brightling pals did when you were in control, I suppose I could see that," I said. They'd nearly wiped out human civilization with their war games. "If the Brightlings are so big into destruction, how'd they manage to build the arches and the Grand Nexus?"
"The Brightlings did not build the arches," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "The Darklings did?"
He shook his head. "The Grand Nexus already existed. We merely found it."
I felt my mouth drop open. "But that would mean…"
"We are not alone in this universe, Mr. Slade."
Chapter 3
Mr. Gray checked his watch. "I'm afraid we've run out of time."
I gulped, and wondered if this was it for me. Then again, why would he go through the trouble of educating me if he only meant to kill me? "I still have questions," I said, deciding to press my luck.
"I'm sure you do. I am undecided about your future." He pressed a button on a phone.
"Yes, Mr. Gray?" asked a woman on the other end.
"Please inform the pilots I will be up to the helipad in five minutes."
"Immediately, Mr. Gray," she said.
"Another reason I'm letting you stay free, Mr. Slade, is this: Though the foreseeance seems to have concluded, it does not mean your presence is inconsequential. You may yet have a role to play. Until I determine what that role is, I am unwilling to cut your thread short or obstruct it."
"Gee, thanks, Methuselah," I said, heaping scorn into my words. During a conversation with Mr. Bigglesworth, Ivy's deceased shape-shifting pal, I'd figured out Mr. Gray's real name. If I'd expected a big reaction from him, he left me disappointed.
"I haven't heard that name for a very long time," he said, without putting any particular emphasis or surprise into his tone. He touched a button on his desk phone. "Lornicus, our guest is ready to depart. Please collect him, and return him home."
"At once, sir," came the golem's nasal voice.
"What's in this for you?" I asked, trying to glean a little more information before Lornicus collected me. "Are you really happy playing human? Or do you enjoy playing the role of fate more?" His talk of snipping threads and manipulating events to suit his purpose struck me as awfully conceited.
"As I said, Mr. Slade, our time has run out. Until I know more, I see little value informing you further."
Someone knocked on the double doors. A woman opened them. "The pilots are ready, sir."
"Very good." He looked at me. "Until the next time, Mr. Slade." Mr. Gray left, closing the doors behind him.
A split second later, the elevator dinged, and an anxious-looking Lornicus emerged. He raised an eyebrow. "You are still alive. I suppose it's a sign things went better than expected."
"What, did you really think he'd kill me?" I said, anger flaring. I was tempted to throw him out the plate glass window.
"I determined the possibility of his killing you to be very slight—no more than a thirty percent probability."
"You call that slight?" I said. "Maybe you need to take math again."
"I've learned a great deal from observing my creator," the golem said. "Though he has a keen eye when it comes to the big picture, I believe he leaves cards unused, avenues unexplored. As the Cataclyst, you have great power to effect change."
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
The golem tilted his head slightly. "You are a catalyst, a prime reactive in events leading to a possible cataclysm. I have heard others refer to you in this way, and believe it's an apt descriptor."
"What others?" I asked.
"Why, the others controlling the game," he said, as if it should make all the sense in the world.
"Names, Lornicus. I want to know names."
"Daelissa,
"The Murk creates. The Brilliance destroys," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The Murk is cold like space, the Brilliance burns like the sun."
"Considering what you and your Brightling pals did when you were in control, I suppose I could see that," I said. They'd nearly wiped out human civilization with their war games. "If the Brightlings are so big into destruction, how'd they manage to build the arches and the Grand Nexus?"
"The Brightlings did not build the arches," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "The Darklings did?"
He shook his head. "The Grand Nexus already existed. We merely found it."
I felt my mouth drop open. "But that would mean…"
"We are not alone in this universe, Mr. Slade."
Chapter 3
Mr. Gray checked his watch. "I'm afraid we've run out of time."
I gulped, and wondered if this was it for me. Then again, why would he go through the trouble of educating me if he only meant to kill me? "I still have questions," I said, deciding to press my luck.
"I'm sure you do. I am undecided about your future." He pressed a button on a phone.
"Yes, Mr. Gray?" asked a woman on the other end.
"Please inform the pilots I will be up to the helipad in five minutes."
"Immediately, Mr. Gray," she said.
"Another reason I'm letting you stay free, Mr. Slade, is this: Though the foreseeance seems to have concluded, it does not mean your presence is inconsequential. You may yet have a role to play. Until I determine what that role is, I am unwilling to cut your thread short or obstruct it."
"Gee, thanks, Methuselah," I said, heaping scorn into my words. During a conversation with Mr. Bigglesworth, Ivy's deceased shape-shifting pal, I'd figured out Mr. Gray's real name. If I'd expected a big reaction from him, he left me disappointed.
"I haven't heard that name for a very long time," he said, without putting any particular emphasis or surprise into his tone. He touched a button on his desk phone. "Lornicus, our guest is ready to depart. Please collect him, and return him home."
"At once, sir," came the golem's nasal voice.
"What's in this for you?" I asked, trying to glean a little more information before Lornicus collected me. "Are you really happy playing human? Or do you enjoy playing the role of fate more?" His talk of snipping threads and manipulating events to suit his purpose struck me as awfully conceited.
"As I said, Mr. Slade, our time has run out. Until I know more, I see little value informing you further."
Someone knocked on the double doors. A woman opened them. "The pilots are ready, sir."
"Very good." He looked at me. "Until the next time, Mr. Slade." Mr. Gray left, closing the doors behind him.
A split second later, the elevator dinged, and an anxious-looking Lornicus emerged. He raised an eyebrow. "You are still alive. I suppose it's a sign things went better than expected."
"What, did you really think he'd kill me?" I said, anger flaring. I was tempted to throw him out the plate glass window.
"I determined the possibility of his killing you to be very slight—no more than a thirty percent probability."
"You call that slight?" I said. "Maybe you need to take math again."
"I've learned a great deal from observing my creator," the golem said. "Though he has a keen eye when it comes to the big picture, I believe he leaves cards unused, avenues unexplored. As the Cataclyst, you have great power to effect change."
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
The golem tilted his head slightly. "You are a catalyst, a prime reactive in events leading to a possible cataclysm. I have heard others refer to you in this way, and believe it's an apt descriptor."
"What others?" I asked.
"Why, the others controlling the game," he said, as if it should make all the sense in the world.
"Names, Lornicus. I want to know names."
"Daelissa,
Readers choose
Christie Barlow
Karen McQuestion
Tracie Peterson
Chris Page
Kim Amos
Jenika Snow
Gore Vidal
L. J. Anderson
Leonardo Padura
John Burks