Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
One step at a time. All he had to do first was figure out if there were even people here—
“Quem é você?”
Right, so for future reference, Sam absolutely sucked at being sneaky. Well, he might have been sneaky if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the archeological discovery of a lifetime. But yeah, he’d been distracted. Fail on his part.
He froze on the spot, his heart hammering hard enough in the back of his throat he could taste it. Question answered: people were here.
They wouldn’t kill him immediately for trespassing, right?
He could talk his way out of this…maybe. Sam squeezed his eyes shut for a second and dragged in a ragged breath. He could figure a way out of this. He had to get back to Dimitri.
Turning slowly, Sam opened his eyes and raised his hands to chest height to show he wasn’t armed.
The man staring back at him wasn’t armed either. Relief rushed through him only to leave again with the next frantic heartbeat. If this man was a mage, he didn’t need a gun. He had magic. Or rather, Jaeggi-devised magic and tech, right? Dimitri had described dangerous explosive devices he’d encountered with the Burkhard dragons in Europe.
The newcomer didn’t appear overtly threatening. More stunned. It probably was shocking to see a complete stranger just waltz through your ward. The guy’s face was heavily lined with wrinkles and deeply tanned, while his stark white hair was trimmed close to his head. His clothes were modern cargo shorts and a plain white T-shirt, so it wasn’t as if Sam had fallen into some crack in time.
Sam understood enough of the Portuguese to respond to the question. “Meu nome é Samuel Hunter. Do you speak English, perhaps? My Portuguese is terrible.”
The man’s eyes narrowed even further, and he spoke again, but it wasn’t Portuguese. German, by the sound of it.
“Yeah, sorry, no spreche Deutsch.”
The man wasn’t happy about this. Sam wasn’t either. He’d just promised Dimitri he wouldn’t get caught, and here he was, trying to talk to a stranger who was very likely a Jaeggi. So much for the plans of mice and men.
Sam pointed to himself and then the way he’d come into the ward. “Can I go back out for a second?”
The man clearly understood that—or the intention—and shook his head. No. He came in close enough to put a hand between Sam’s shoulder blades and herded him forward.
“Um, no, you don’t understand. I have a very upset dragon outside. I’m happy to return to talk to you after I reassure him. Yeah? Still a no, huh?”
Well, Sam was a good thirty years younger than this guy. He was relatively sure he could make a break and run for it. Dimitri would swoop in and rescue him as soon as he was outside the ward.
This plan died a quick death when three other people appeared out of different buildings, took in Sam with a startled jerk of the head, and immediately joined in. They tried asking him questions, but their Portuguese was so quick, he barely understood one word in five. He shrugged helplessly each time.
The older man said something to them, which they apparently all agreed with, as they stopped trying to ask Sam questions and just followed along. It was like a procession of sorts, with more people being added every few yards.
Sam tried not to think of it as a funeral procession.
They weren’t being aggressive with him, which helped. They were wary but curious, much like himself.
His guide took him through the plaza, past it, and then into another building that looked original to the Sousa Clan. Seriously, it was a testament to the original builders that the place still stood. The stone dropped the temperature by a good ten degrees as soon as Sam ducked through the doorway. A very narrow, short doorway. Definitely original. The people back then were not tall, after all.
He had to blink a few times to adjust to the dimmer lighting, and when he did, his eyes went round immediately.
Holy shit. He was in a library.
Everywhere he looked, there were thickly bound tomes on shelves, and the amount of preservation spells on them was insane. Also likely the reason they still existed. For an ancient clan, it was an impressive display, as there had to be a good three hundred volumes here at least.
Sam may have salivated. Just a little.
A man and woman were seated in the center of the room, at a table that looked much newer compared to everything else, a tome open in front of them. They regarded Sam with the same wary curiosity everyone else had showed.
Sam’s guide said something to them, then gestured to Sam. This was apparently an explanation, as the man stood up and came around. Sixties, Sam judged, maybe a little older. He wore a worn red cardigan and jeans, his blue eyes penetrating.