Long Night Moon (The Bradbury Institute Book 2) Read Free Page B

humans.” He continued climbing the stairs.
    At the top he stopped again, this
time facing her. “There’s something else you need to know. There are people
here of mixed parentage.”
    “Wow, who?”
    “Maura’s grandmother was Seelie.”
Maura, the amazingly talented chef whose food seemed to almost have healing
qualities. Maybe there was no almost to it. “Her partner, Niall. His grandfather
was Seelie too.” Niall tended the gardens, both ornamental and the vegetable
and herb gardens. Everything he grew was bigger and tasted better than anything
Eve had ever had before.
    “Anyone else?” Eve half expected
Pete to be named though she couldn’t articulate why.
    “Bettine. Her father is from
Sideways.”
    Chet’s – girlfriend didn’t fit,
perhaps paramour – had an otherworldly beauty and poise. Bettine could also
come across as cold and brittle. Eve didn’t get the two of them as a couple.
According to Franny, nobody did.
    They reentered the main room of the
Archive and Chet closed the door behind them. “Just read the book,” he said.
“It’s really good. A great adventure story.”
    “Will I get to meet Captain Irvine
while he’s here?”
    Chet laughed. “Oh, I guarantee,
there’s no way he’d pass up a chance to get to know you. He’s an incorrigible
flirt and everybody’s fair game to him. Franny can tell you more about that.”
    He headed for his office. “Look,
work is pretty much done for the year. Most of the staff will be gone in a day
or two. The only ones left will be ones who know about the gates. You wanna go
curl up in a corner somewhere and read that book, go ahead.”
    “I think I’ll do just that.”
Relishing the idea of diving in, she ran her hand over the cover. Faery was
real and in her hands she held an account of its exploration. That was much
easier to think about than the fact that working and living at Bradbury meant
dealing with occasional energy spikes from a gateway to Hell.

Chapter 3
     
    I must confess, a great deal of strong
drink had been imbibed in that last night. The John Company men wanted to send
me and my fellows off with a rousing evening of food, drink, and entertainment.
Of course I acquiesced to this. We had no idea when, or even if, we’d be
returning, and we faced a long perilous journey through a hostile war-torn
land. What I remember of that last night is the stifling heat, the sweet scent
of rath-ki-rani flowers blending with incense and hookah smoke, the sitar and
flute wrapping around each other in a dance equaled only by the spell of the
courtesans. It made for a heady brew and I found myself in need of cool,
cleansing air. My intention was but to walk just far enough away from the house
to find a breeze untouched by smoke, perhaps some water to dilute the wine. I
found myself gazing up at the magnificent field of stars above, ambling rather
aimlessly. I do not recall exactly how far I walked, out past the city walls
and the river and into the dense jungle. I know that I sat on the ground for
some time, against a massive banyan tree, listening to the rush of the water,
the calls of nocturnal creatures, and the music of sitar and flute that stayed
in my thoughts. At some point I closed my eyes. When I opened them it was to
blink at bright morning light as it glittered across a frozen desert of ice
that stretched as far as I could see.
    I stood in a hurry, taking in my new
surroundings with a great deal of incredulity. As the cold began to creep into
me, I suddenly heard a voice behind me call out, “Are you a lost fellow?”
    - Captain George Francis Irvine, from the
first chapter of Crossing the Bridge Between This World and the Otherworld .
     
    Eve flipped to the back and front
of the book searching for some sort of about the author section. There
was nothing of the sort. She was curled up in a comfy chair in the study two
floors above the Archives. It had become one of her favorite places in the
institute as soon as she’d first found