The House of Grey- Volume 1 Read Online Free Page B

wild but powerful and extraordinarily effective. The larger boy fought valiantly but was slowly overpowered. Monson found the contest before him exciting, which caused him to look down at the stick in his hand.
    Have I done this before?
    A whistle from the direction of the fight interrupted his reverie. The large boy, still fending off attacks, whistled and then gestured toward Monson's right hand. Monson knew immediately what he was asking for and took aim, flicking his stick toward the scuffle.
    Exhibiting some fine agility, the redhead caught the stick.   New life entered him as he renewed his offense and took his attacker by surprise. With a great deal of finesse he started to counterattack with a double-handed fencing style, spinning and slicing through the air like a human food processor.
    Notwithstanding-, Monson could tell the conclusion was pretty much inevitable; the smaller attacker was just too fast for his larger opponent. The duel concluded in a dramatic disarmament by the newcomer. With a few parries and thrusts, Monson saw the redhead's   sticks fly far overhead and hit the ground with a loud clang.
    "Got you, Arthur," the new boy said, landing the tip of the stick on the former's throat. "That's one for me. It appears you're in for a bad year."
    "Don't get cocky, Casey!" Arthur shot back angrily. "First day of school and you were lucky. You caught me off-guard."
    The new boy laughed. Turning around, he looked toward Monson. Dressed in expensive denim and a polo shirt, he was handsome, but for some reason the style didn't suit him. 
    His features were normal enough, with dirty blond hair, a soft jawline, and smooth eyebrows. Yes, he was quite normal except for the eyes: They seemed a bit large for his face, almost like his mom had mated with a bat. Monson could tell that the boy came from money, just like the cute blonde girl, but the effect of the expensive clothes was lost in the sweaty figure standing before him. Another unexpected detail: The boy's hands were rough and callused, worn and heavy with use. Monson was impressed. This boy knew a hard day's work. Monson watched as he lobbed his mock sword from hand to hand. It looked very much at home.
    "Who's the new guy?" asked the boy called Casey, gesturing toward Monson. He stared at Monson, narrowing his eyes. "And what happened to his face?"
    Monson breathed deeply. It was about time to make his exit. 
    "No idea," Arthur said, also looking at Monson. "I actually attacked him thinking it was you."
    "You attacked him thinking it was me? HA! How thick are you?"
    "Shut up, Casey."
    "Better watch it, Arthur," Casey said, swinging the stick back in an arc and flourishing it outrageously. "I don't want to have to give you another thrashing."
    "Oh, is that what it was?" asked Arthur, who sounded like he was starting to get angry. "How about I pull out the surburito and crush that fat melon of yours right now?"
    "Bring it on!" Casey said, also sounding riled up. "I'll stomp the fool out of you."
    "Guys, calm down," Monson said rashly, moving to stand between them. "We still have orientation to attend, and let's face it, it's way too early in the morning for a thrashing."
    Surprise etched in their sweaty faces, the two boys looked at each other and burst into laughter.  Monson smiled at them, not quite sure what to do. He opened his mouth to say something, but realized that he couldn't think of anything, and shut it again. They all stood for a brief span more, Monson feeling awkward. 
    Getting his fill, Monson turned away, embarrassed. He walked away, preparing to grab his stuff and go hide in a hole, but before he could move more than a few feet, a hand found his shoulder and whipped him back around.
    "Where do you think you’re going?" Casey said, inspecting Monson with a beady eye.
    "Well . . . I was just . . . . " Monson replied sheepishly. The two boys just smiled as they stood in silence.
    "This is the part where you tell us your name," Casey whispered,