Era of Greed [✔ COMPLETE] (Chrim Chronicles #1)

CHAPTER SIX

Wren of West

Instead of reading the book resting on my lap, I stared at Shadowface crawling on the brick wall across from me. It didn't have a head, only narrow eyes and a mouth grinning like the crescent moon. It was laughing at me, it always did. I had hoped it wouldn't follow me here, yet I wasn't surprised either. I stared back, as I always did, to let it know that one day I'd be the last to laugh.

When the shadow grew larger I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes. The usual butterflies in my stomach had turned into wasps. My heart was a manic drummer with my body and limbs serving as its speakers, spreading the rapid rhythm underneath every inch of my skin. When I opened my eyes, Shadowface was gone.

I reached into my pocket and took out a small blue stress ball. It had the image of a smiley on it. Like Shadowface, the smiley only had a pair of black eyes and a mouth, but unlike Shadowface, this smiley looked sweet. I squeezed it, pressuring all my strength into it. The ball seemed to help, at least now I did not bite my nails or scratched my face or forget where to place my hands.

In the fireplace across from me a fire had been lit. The crackle of the fire was the only sound in the living room, along with the occasional shuffling of pages. The other Watchers were studying whatever was written in the book Nestor Krol had given us. So far, I had only been able to study the map of Chrim, which was divided in North, South, East, West and Downtown, and learned that each species had their own area.

We were housed in Downtown, the central area where all the political offices were located along with the Reverie and which was also the territory of the vampires. The western area, called Vesta in the Old Language and which would be my future home, bordered with the sea and belonged to the witches. The southern area, called Sofrath in the Old Language, was the industrial area and belonged to the humans. The north, Norfos in the Old Language, was fully wooded and belonged to the nymphs, and its lakes and waterfalls was where most of the town's clean tap water came from. The east, Ethes in the Old Language, was partially wooded and belonged to the werewolves.

I sniffed and kept the air in my lungs for a while in an attempt to slow down my heartbeat. The odor of lemons and baked bread pierced into my nose. With my mentor, Olivia Porth, we used to live in an empty house that was up for sale, the rotting shack had an undying stench of thinner and cigarettes, and it was always that stench reminding me of reality. Where voices and faces usually deceived me, smells never did.

But in Chrim I needed a better grip on reality than smells if I were to cling on to sanity, so once again I replayed the last couple of weeks in my head. First there was the neatly dressed vampire, Cyril, and I remembered poking him in the chest to see if he were real after I had witnessed him move so fast he'd become a blur. After we drove for half an hour, he took me to a small plane with no windows, and couches and tables like a living room. We had arrived at four in the morning and I hadn't met Niobe and Elora until the following morning, and Spyro arrived that afternoon.