Still the Sun by Charlie N. Holmberg EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Charlie N. Holmberg
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 20.3 MB
- Price: Free
Something is missing.
I turn the brass ball joint over in my hand, tracing the subtly raised
edge with my fingernail. It attaches to a hollow metal cylinder with ridging,
suggesting the cylinder once housed a pump. A lip on the cylinder looks
like it connected to something else. If that something else is a track, then
this might be the first evidence I’ve found that the Ancients utilized
skidding systems. The style of metalwork alone denotes the artifact is of
Ancient make, but without more pieces, I can’t confirm my theory. My
chest sinks at the thought that I likely never will.
Sighing, I set the damaged piece of machine on my little table. I didn’t
see anything else nearby when I dug up this gem. I suppose I can venture
out again and search a little harder, but doubts keep me here. I found this
artifact a year ago, and it was a four-cycle journey to the dig site. That’s
four cycles of food and water strapped to my back, and four cycles of
camping on dust and dry earth. No way stations or people along the way.
Just me. So I’m not exactly brimming with enthusiasm for a return trip.
Rolling my lips together and making a pop sound with my mouth, I
push back from the table and stretch. I’ve been hunching over this thing for
too long. I glance at the square clock on the far wall, one of two I
constructed myself. The other hangs in the alehouse. The mist will settle in
soon, but for my work, I prefer it. Keeps me from getting too warm. And if
I wait for it to pass, I won’t finish in time.
Nothing ruins a funeral like an unfinished grave.
I stomp into my shoes, wrap my hands, and tie the front of my hair
into a knot on the top of my head—it isn’t long enough for a proper tail—
before stepping out of my single-room home. I built a little lean-to shed
next to it, just large enough for a person to turn around in. From there I grab
my tools—shovel, pick, rock bar—tie them up, and throw them over my
shoulder before heading into town. The sun gleams brightly in my eyes, and
I blink a few tears back as I cross the small village. A person could spit and
reach the end of Emgarden, but it isn’t like there’s anything bigger around.
There’s nothing around, except for the amaranthine wall to the east and the
abandoned fortress to the northwest, a giant tower brimming with broken
Ancient tech, I’m sure, but even Arthen hasn’t been able to get those doors
open. We stopped trying years ago.
I skirt a random cluster of emilies in the road. The flowers are the
fastest-growing things around and seem to be the only living thing that
doesn’t need water. We don’t water them, anyway, but they thrive,
sometimes in the strangest of places. One could pull up an entire patch of
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