Frostbitten Fairy Tales by Melanie Karsak EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Melanie Karsak
- Language: English
- Genre: Fairy Tales
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME
THE CLOCK ON TINKER’S TOWER GONGED
out nine o’clock as I slipped down the cobblestone
street, turning into a narrow alley. A flurry of
snowflakes carried by a stiff winter’s breeze blew
down the passage and up under my cloak. I shivered
and pulled the garment closer around me. Yawning
tiredly, I paused to ensure I had not been followed,
then entered through a nondescript door.
Inside, Marcus stood guarding the second door,
one hand on his pistol, the other holding a cup of tea.
The scents of anise and orange filled the small
alcove.
I smothered a laugh when he trained his gun on
me while taking a sip.
He lowered his teacup. “You’re late, Clem,
” he
told me with a smirk.
“Suppose they’ll kick me out of the Society?”
“You wish,
” he said with a laugh.
I chuckled.
Setting the tea down, he unlocked the door and
motioned for me to enter. “Good luck.”
I huffed a laugh and headed inside. The room
within appeared to be a humble abode. The small flat
had a cot, a rough-cut wood kitchen table, and a cold
hearth. The place was perfect in its depiction of
misery and meanness. I crossed the room to the worn
wooden cupboard. I eyed the old wooden pantry.
The
initials R. M. were rudely carved at the top. I opened
the cupboard door. On one side was a row of shelves
sparsely lined with chipped teacups, empty tea tins,
and plates. On the other side was a drum of potatoes.
I slipped around the barrel then slid the panel on the
back of the pantry open to reveal a narrow set of
stairs leading below the city. I entered the tight
stairwell, closing the panel behind me, and then
descended. I could already hear voices rising from
behind the closed door at the bottom of the stairs.
Wonderful.
I really was late.
I wound down the stairs, pausing just outside the
door. Orange light poured through the cracks around
the doorframe. And with it, warmth. I rubbed my
hands together, my fingers numb from cold, then
opened the door.
Heat and light poured from the room.
They were gathered at a long wooden table; its
cherry wood glimmered with so much polish,
reflecting the golden light cast by the chandelier
overhead, that it hurt my good eye. I winced. Every
agent sitting at the table turned and looked up at me.
Agent Hunter was already passing out dossiers
as he went over the weekly report. He gave me the
briefest of glances.
“Clemeny, good of you to join us,
” he said.
I slipped into my seat. “A bit early for someone
on my beat.”
“Yes. Well, we all have challenges,
” he replied.
I looked around the table. Half the other agents
were rolling their eyes or frowning at me. Unfriendly
bunch.
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