Rogue Legacy, Jeffrey L. Kohanek [best pdf reader for ebooks .txt] 📗
- Author: Jeffrey L. Kohanek
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Glancing down at herself, she eyed the dark red dress she bought while in Sol Polis. With it only requiring a few modifications, the tailor had it ready by the time she had completed her other errands.
“Thank you.” Lyra swung the full pack around, it weighing a fraction of what it should, considering the contents. “The mason said he would have a team here in the morning to repair the pit. I also got everything you requested, but it will take a while for the two of us to eat this much food. How do you expect to keep it fresh that long?”
Cal accepted the pack and spun about, speaking over his shoulder as she followed him into the kitchen. “Don’t worry, it will keep just fine.”
After setting the pack on the table, Cal pulled two carafes of milk from the stuffed pack and held them toward Lyra.
“Open the coldbox door and start loading it up as I hand things to you.”
Lyra glanced toward the cabinet Cal had indicated. It appeared large enough for her to fit inside, and it had odd symbols carved into the door.
Her brow furrowed. “Um, you plan to store a side of beef in a cabinet uncooked? It will go bad in a day.”
He chuckled. “Just open the cabinet. You’ll see.”
Shrugging, Lyra grabbed the handle and snatched her hand back, looking down at her fingers. She bit her lip and reached for the handle again, the metal feeling ice cold. As the door opened, frosty air seeped out, sinking toward the floor. Curious, she put her hand inside and touched one of the shelves, finding it cold.
“How…how is this possible?”
He laughed. “I keep telling you. I can do magic.”
Using a pair of metal tongs, Lyra picked the sizzling beef strips off the cast iron stovetop and dropped them on the plate held in her other hand. She set the plate down and used her gloved hand to pull the oven door open, the wonderful scent of baked bread wafting out. Reaching in, she used the tongs to remove a hot loaf of bread before closing the door.
Discarding the leather gloves, she set the plate of meat and loaf of bread on the table, joining the bowl of fresh vegetables already waiting there.
With another glance toward the oven and stovetop, Lyra found herself surprised at how quickly she had grown accustomed to something that seemed unbelievable just days prior. She still didn’t understand Cal’s magic, but the fact that the stove and oven were always hot made life incredibly convenient.
The sound of whining carried through an open window, followed by barking. Lyra sighed.
“Has that dog gotten himself locked outside again?”
She emerged from the kitchen and crossed the sitting room. Opening the door, Lyra noted the newly installed stone tiles where the pit had been. It felt odd to cross them, since the fall she had endured remained fresh in her mind. However, that area was solid after being filled-in and paved over. Cal claimed that he no longer had need for it, since he possessed a new trick for would-be intruders.
When Lyra emerged from the courtyard, she found Gilo at the gate, sniffing and pacing.
“What is it, boy?” she asked as she drew near.
The dog grew more excited, panting and dancing in anticipation. A whine came from just beyond the gate. Lyra’s brow arched as she raised the bar that locked the gate, easing it open to discover the source of Gilo’s excitement.
A medium-sized dog darted past her and ran toward the house with Gilo in pursuit.
“Wait!” she shouted as she locked the gate.
She ran into the courtyard and found both dogs sniffing each other, moving in circles as they sought each other’s tail end.
Upon further examination, the dog appeared underfed, her spine and rib bones showing prominently. With short tan hair and droopy ears, the newcomer was a contrast to Gilo’s pointed ears and dark brindle coat.
Apparently finished smelling Gilo, the other dog ran toward Lyra and rubbed against her legs, apparently seeking Lyra for protection. Lyra squatted to pet the new dog and received a series of rapid licks on her chin and cheek.
“Oh, you’re a sweetie.” Lyra crooned, scratching the new dog behind the ears.
As she pet the stray, Lyra considered her own life and the similar nature between her and the new canine – both homeless, skinny, and forlorn. She felt an instant connection.
Standing upright, she walked to the door, opened it, and waited as Gilo and the other dog ran inside.
“Let’s get you two some dinner. Cal should be home soon.”
The front door opened and Lyra craned her neck around the wall between the kitchen and sitting room as Cal stepped into the house. Gilo heard the door as well and scrambled to greet his owner while the stray trailed close behind. Lyra finished drying the plate and set it atop the stack of clean plates resting on the open shelf. She walked into the sitting room to find Cal frowning at the new dog while he pet Gilo.
“Who’s this?”
“I named her Striah. I found her whining at the gate,” Lyra said with a shrug. “She seemed lost and hungry, so I brought her in and fed her. Gilo appears to like her, too.’
Lyra bit her lip as she waited for Cal to respond, fearing what he might say.
Cal sighed, “Fine.”
He set his pack on the small table near the door and plopped down on the sofa. The stray immediately jumped up beside him and climbed into his lap.
Lyra laughed. “She’s a bit large for your lap, but she appears to like you.”
Cal gave a sad smile and shook his head. “I’m glad somebody does.”
“Why do you say that?”
He sighed again. “I met with Ministry leaders to present my discoveries, but they’re not satisfied. They demand that I push forward and ignore my concerns. I can hold them back for a bit, but I know where things are headed, and I’m just not ready yet.”
Lyra arranged her skirt and sat in the chair across from Cal. Gilo settled at her feet, leaning against her shins as she absently pet him.
“After working here for almost two weeks, I still know little of what you do. You call me your assistant, but all I do is run errands, clean, and cook.” She paused. “By the way, you missed dinner. What’s left is in the kitchen, wrapped in a towel.”
“I’m not hungry. And regarding your other question, I agree. You deserve to know something of what I do.” He looked at Striah, petting her while the dog’s eyes drifted open and closed at the pleasure of his attention. “I’m a member of the Ministry of Issal. They brought me here from Sol Gier and put me up in this house as a quiet place to conduct research, research on magic. The manor is quiet enough for me to do my work, yet is close enough to Sol Polis that I can visit them at any time to report my progress.”
“What is this Ministry of…what did you call it?”
“If you don’t know about the Ministry of Issal, you must not be Kalimarian.”
Lyra shook her head, hesitating a moment before replying, “I’m from Vinacci.”
Cal nodded. “You still hold to the old gods then. If The Hand has its way, that will soon change, and you will follow Issal instead.”
Lyra’s heart quickened with anticipation as the conversation turned in the direction she desired. “You’ve mentioned The Hand before. What is it?”
“The Hand is really more of a who. It is a shortened version for The Hand of Issal, a sect within the Ministry. There are other sects, each having their own views of how to best enlighten the people about Issal’s teachings. The Hand recruited me from Sol Gier when they learned about my discoveries – about the unique abilities I developed using Issal’s magic. I agreed to come because I believe magic can be used to make people’s lives better.”
“So, this magic of yours…you’re some kind of witch, then?”
He laughed. “There’s no such thing as a witch. Witchcraft is a label created by ignorance and fear. My abilities come from Issal. Some of those who follow him can do magic. There are two types to his magic though: one magic is connected to life, and it includes abilities such as healing. The other magic is related to change and can be used in powerful, and sometimes practical, ways. The coldbox, the oven, and the floating pack are all examples of this magic.”
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