The First Book of Ore: The Foundry's Edge Read Online Free
Author: Cameron Baity, Benny Zelkowicz
powerful urge to look, but she resisted it.
Just one more second to go.
One.
She opened her eyes. Foundry Bay was gone from view as the busy street angled around a bend. But the weird feeling was still there. Phoebe looked out the back window.
Behind the Baronet was an unfamiliar model of Auto-mobile. It was jet-black with a dark bronze stripe down the middle. A row of oval headlights wrapped around the front of the Auto below a narrow, tinted windshield. For an instant, she glimpsed a face behind the smoked glass.
Curving mustache. Bowler hat. Round black spectacles.
Phoebe gasped. With reflections dancing across the dark windshield, she couldnât be sure. Was she imagining things?
No. It was the stranger she had seen from her bedroom window.
Her mind scrambled for an explanation. Was it merely someone who looked like him? It was a fairly typical fashion, plain black suit with a white shirt and gloves. Maybe he was a new neighbor who coincidentally shared her commute.
Thatâs when it hit her. This man had been sent by her father, hired to watch over her like a bodyguard. Thatâs why he had been surveying the house that morning and why he was following her now. Did that mean she was in danger? Her father was a big deal at the Foundry, after all. Maybe this was a precaution, what with all the anti-Meridian stuff going on.
Surely that was it.
Phoebe gave the stranger a little wave to let him know she understood. On cue, the black Auto drifted back and disappeared into the sea of traffic. Not exactly the reaction she was expecting, but it was no matter. She was relieved to know that her father was watching over her from afar.
Still, why didnât he just tell her? Her father could have sent word from wherever he was. It would certainly scare her a lot less if she knew this stranger was a bodyguard and not some creepy stalker.
She pondered this until they arrived at Beatrice Albright Academy for Girls. The campus was a vast grassy commons enclosed by a row of stately elms, and the front of the school faced the distant bay, whose waters glittered through the leaves. Her instructors always boasted about the inspiring historical significance of their school. But to Phoebe, it looked like some sort of burned-out fortress, with a clunky iron block design corroded by centuries of ocean air.
Lately, the Academy had been undergoing renovations, and while half of the sprawling campus was caged in by scaffolding, the other half had received a shiny new veneer that gleamed with fiery reflections from the Crest of Dawn.
Tennyson parked the Baronet. Phoebe slouched so that no one could see her, and he didnât say a word, knowing her routine. Every day, she watched as the other girls milled about, playing with their Spinner Purses and ridiculous hair mobiles until they all finally bobbled indoors. Only then would she slink inside.
The chauffeur resumed his obnoxious whistling and tapping. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror and gave her a smug grin. She had considered letting him off the hook for his previous slight, but this sealed the deal.
Phoebe searched one of the secret pockets in her skirt.
At last the bell rang. She grabbed her bag and shuffled out of the Auto, immediately feeling weighed down by schoolwork and the salty humidity of the bay.
Phoebe paused for a second, pretending to adjust her shoe as she pulled the bent nail from her pocket and wedged it beneath the Baronetâs back tire. She slammed the door, and as Tennyson sped away, she thrilled to the pop and hiss of the punctured wheel. Hopefully, he would be stuck in traffic by the time he discovered the flat. That was sure to stop his stupid whistling.
âGotcha,â Phoebe said.
As she trudged up the steps, Phoebe scanned the driveway and parking lot, looking for the strangerâs black and bronze Auto. It was nowhere to be seen. She took a last deep breath of the free world, sour and salty though it was, and forced it out,
Just one more second to go.
One.
She opened her eyes. Foundry Bay was gone from view as the busy street angled around a bend. But the weird feeling was still there. Phoebe looked out the back window.
Behind the Baronet was an unfamiliar model of Auto-mobile. It was jet-black with a dark bronze stripe down the middle. A row of oval headlights wrapped around the front of the Auto below a narrow, tinted windshield. For an instant, she glimpsed a face behind the smoked glass.
Curving mustache. Bowler hat. Round black spectacles.
Phoebe gasped. With reflections dancing across the dark windshield, she couldnât be sure. Was she imagining things?
No. It was the stranger she had seen from her bedroom window.
Her mind scrambled for an explanation. Was it merely someone who looked like him? It was a fairly typical fashion, plain black suit with a white shirt and gloves. Maybe he was a new neighbor who coincidentally shared her commute.
Thatâs when it hit her. This man had been sent by her father, hired to watch over her like a bodyguard. Thatâs why he had been surveying the house that morning and why he was following her now. Did that mean she was in danger? Her father was a big deal at the Foundry, after all. Maybe this was a precaution, what with all the anti-Meridian stuff going on.
Surely that was it.
Phoebe gave the stranger a little wave to let him know she understood. On cue, the black Auto drifted back and disappeared into the sea of traffic. Not exactly the reaction she was expecting, but it was no matter. She was relieved to know that her father was watching over her from afar.
Still, why didnât he just tell her? Her father could have sent word from wherever he was. It would certainly scare her a lot less if she knew this stranger was a bodyguard and not some creepy stalker.
She pondered this until they arrived at Beatrice Albright Academy for Girls. The campus was a vast grassy commons enclosed by a row of stately elms, and the front of the school faced the distant bay, whose waters glittered through the leaves. Her instructors always boasted about the inspiring historical significance of their school. But to Phoebe, it looked like some sort of burned-out fortress, with a clunky iron block design corroded by centuries of ocean air.
Lately, the Academy had been undergoing renovations, and while half of the sprawling campus was caged in by scaffolding, the other half had received a shiny new veneer that gleamed with fiery reflections from the Crest of Dawn.
Tennyson parked the Baronet. Phoebe slouched so that no one could see her, and he didnât say a word, knowing her routine. Every day, she watched as the other girls milled about, playing with their Spinner Purses and ridiculous hair mobiles until they all finally bobbled indoors. Only then would she slink inside.
The chauffeur resumed his obnoxious whistling and tapping. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror and gave her a smug grin. She had considered letting him off the hook for his previous slight, but this sealed the deal.
Phoebe searched one of the secret pockets in her skirt.
At last the bell rang. She grabbed her bag and shuffled out of the Auto, immediately feeling weighed down by schoolwork and the salty humidity of the bay.
Phoebe paused for a second, pretending to adjust her shoe as she pulled the bent nail from her pocket and wedged it beneath the Baronetâs back tire. She slammed the door, and as Tennyson sped away, she thrilled to the pop and hiss of the punctured wheel. Hopefully, he would be stuck in traffic by the time he discovered the flat. That was sure to stop his stupid whistling.
âGotcha,â Phoebe said.
As she trudged up the steps, Phoebe scanned the driveway and parking lot, looking for the strangerâs black and bronze Auto. It was nowhere to be seen. She took a last deep breath of the free world, sour and salty though it was, and forced it out,
Readers choose
J. Carson Black
David Bishop
Slaton Smith
Linda Kay Silva
Manju Kapur
Nikki Groom
Gary Chapman
Kallista Dane
Sherryl Woods
Iain Gately