Logan Marsh: A Thrilling Fantasy Novel (Action Adventure,Mystery, Y/A Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

Horistos decked in silver armour.
    Reading the clock is easy enough. When the sun rises, Horistus's statue casts the first shadow on the blue cypress tree, and the statue turns blue; this is the first blue hour. As the sun progresses along the sky, Horistos turns yellow from the yellow cypress. This is the yellow hour, the second hour of the day.
    At the last day hour, as the sun sets behind the red tree and the moon appears, Horistus's armour reflects the purple moonlight and lights the blue night candle flower, the first hour of the dark. So the hours of the dark progress, but the statue of Horistus does not rotate.
    During notime, when both the sun and moon does not grace the skies, the words "Strike" appear on Horistus's armour and the dwarf lowered his head. Some say that he does so in respect to the horrors of the dark times. Others joke and say that he does so in shame because the clock cannot work at that time.
    In plain words, the purple tree hour, the hour in which the tournament mission will be announced in the third hour of the day.

Chapter 3 - A Reunion
    Loud laughter and tinkling glasses were heard from the open feast at the local wine bar, also called "the three dimensions" bar. All along the long bar, chilled ice wine was poured into glasses made from dry ice. Even though the hour was quite early, many visitors and local patrons were already drinking: some of them could not find a suitable place to sleep and stayed on the floor.
    Wooden tables were arrayed all over the bar, varied in their size: small, medium and large. Some speculated that this was the source for the bar's curious name. The beer glasses, also arrayed in three distinct sizes, were refilled over and over again.
    Loud cheering voices were heard from one of the tables, where a boisterous group of red-nosed bistons competed in arm wrestling. At the next table, three moustached humans played cards, wearing expensive suits and tall hats, smoke rising from their cigars. The waitress, a tall, shapely, flaxen-haired elven girl, received the attention of all the patrons when she squealed, as her buttocks were repeatedly pinched.
    An old lutin stood in the corner, playing a music box that was twice his size, turning its handle over and over. The rhythmic music added to the joyous atmosphere of the place.
    A blind and limping beggar walked between the tables, using his cane for guidance, he stopped at each table, stretching his hand for alms. Many scraped copper coins for him; others shared their meal with him and allowed him to enjoy a glass or two. Also, there were others that ignored him altogether.
    "Well, Dunlop, you promise to tell me the source of the grey elf," a thin and reedy voice was heard from one of the tables. It was a small and energetic squab, wearing a media painter vest, covered with soot and brushes sticking out of its many pouches. Opposite him sat an elven fellow, his slick hair parted in the middle, thin moustache, wearing gaudy reporter robes and a yellow necktie. On his robes, he proudly presented his newspaper yellow embroidery "Notizia Newspaper – From all over the world to you".
    "You're right," said Dunlop. "Well, Serdamus, here it goes. Like I've said before, the source of this evil race is quite interesting. Especially since it is linked with the birth of evil in this dimension, birth of wickedness, birth of the immortals, and more important – the birth of notime."
    "What?!" wondered Serdamus. "The notime?"
    "We'll eventually reach that particular detail," said Dunlop. "You know that the grey elves are also called stone elves, since in their veins, instead of warm blood, flows molten stone. The grey elf can see in the dark and has a keener sense of smell than a mole. This race is more cunning than any fox and more poisonous than any snake."
    "Oh dear," muttered Serdamus.
    "Ancient elven tomes relate that with the founding of the Nature Kingdom, more than seventy thousand years ago, the golden elves were chosen to rule