The Bonds of Blood Read Online Free Page B

blackness and whirling stars above chasing him down into
oblivion. Then he felt relieved, a silver light, then a different
voice, beautiful, like angelic music.
    Awaken,
child , the voice cooed. Jovian could not
tell if it was male or female, for it was both deep and alluring,
but musical and gentle. Awaken, Jovian,
one who courts the Pale Horse.

CHAPTER THREE

    A knock on her door
brought Angelica out of her reverie, and
she called, “Come in.”
    Amber and Joya both pushed through the
door, each one wearing a long black gown, but in different styles.
Amber was the type who enjoyed showing more of her frame, whether
it was trendy or not, so her silk gown swept down to the floor, and
where it didn’t cling to her, it wisped about her.
    Joya, on the other hand, was all about
fashion, so it was no shock to find her in the more commonly seen
gown of extra fabric, hoop, and petticoats.
    “We didn’t even know him well,” Joya
complained. “I can understand going to pay our last respects, but
why do we have to attend the funeral?” She toyed with her black,
lacey umbrella, much more for show than any practical use.
Angelica, doting a cotton black dress styled much like Amber’s,
checked her reflection in the mirror and was pleased with what she
saw … with the exception of the bruised face.
    “Angelica, would you like to tell her
why this time? I am getting a little tired of repeating myself,”
Amber pleaded.
    “Of course,” Angelica said, putting the
final pin in her golden hair. “It is our duty, as children of
Dauin, and heirs to the House Neferis, to welcome and see off all
servants under our care.” Angelica quoted their father and motioned
Amber to help her finish buttoning the back of her gown.
    “I know,” Joya rolled her eyes. “But
it’s not like we are all heirs; I mean, Amber is the oldest, after
all.”
    “Yes, but it is still only proper,”
Angelica said. “Now stop whining. You are all gussied up; might as
well make an appearance, Joya.” And with that, Angelica linked arms
with Amber, and they hurried Joya out of the room and off to the
funeral.
    It was an emotional time for most of
the servants, and some of the older residents of the plantation,
but seeing how the girls’ never new old man Nelson that well, all
they could muster was a forced look of concern and feigned
mourning.
    The ritual was held, and before the
girls knew it, the pyre was being lit.
    “She’s gone,” Angelica heard Joya
whisper softly behind her.
    “What?” Angelica turned around, but her
sister was no longer behind her. Instead, Angelica peered out at
the plantation, somehow different now, more sorrowful. All around
the house, the fields were decimated, and the crops lay flat on the
ground. “We won’t be able to salvage any of it,” she heard a man
say, but Angelica saw no man in sight.
    “She is gone,” Angelica heard Joya
again, but the voice was distant, hollow, as if coming from far
off. Soon the voice was lost in a strong wind that tore at
Angelica, forcing her to close her eyes.
    When the wind finally died out, she
opened her eyes and watched as an eerie black fog rose around the
plantation, enveloping it in its pungent darkness. In the moments
that followed, Angelica felt small and insignificant, like a pawn
in some larger scheme.
    There was a horrible sense of loss, and
she cried out as pain lanced through her hands. She looked down and
her hands seemed to be melting, fusing together with other hands.
She was loosing her identity. She was merging with something
darker, more powerful, and the two of them were becoming a force
that had the potential to either heal the world, or plunge it into
Chaos.
    There was not just one pair of hands,
but three, forming a triangle of which she was a point, and when
Angelica looked up, she felt something touch her back.
    Startled, she came to herself. The
vision disappeared in a licking of flames as Angelica watched the
pyre catch.
    Angelica felt someone poking her