Chapter Seventeen

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Chapter Seventeen

I warily grinned up at Landen then took my place at Clarissa's side as we stepped through after my father. The passage led into a large building. I could smell oil burning, and the room was sweltering. My father led us up a metal staircase encased in rust. Once at the top, he knocked twice quickly, hesitated then knocked again. A moment later, you could hear someone unlocking chains on the other side, then the thick metal door opened.

Standing in front of us was a man. His years were near my father's, yet his brown eyes were older. He was dressed in a long black cloak shambled with dust and holes. He looked down the stairs at the large group my father had brought with him. I could feel his fear as he stared at Landen then me.

"Jason, I do believe that you're premature. The moon is not yet full," the man said.

Ashten and my father gave each other a cautious look then slowly shook their head 'no' to the man. Landen looked crossly at our fathers, then to August for an explanation. The only response he received was smiling eyes and an emotion of pride.

"We're only searching for Livingston. Have you seen him?" my father asked.

"Yes, he was mistaken for another and was assigned duties in the fields. His time is over today. He should, like everyone else, be in the courtyard."

The man's eyes never left mine as he spoke to my father.

"Am I allowed a formal introduction?" the man asked.

"My apologies," my father said.

"This is my daughter, Willow. Willow, this is Patrick, an honored friend of Esterious."

Patrick smiled at me and bowed his head slightly. He then extended his arm, inviting us through the doorway. The room was dark. You could see a simple table, bed, and desk aligned on one wall and a fireplace on another. The floor was made of wood, and there was no color to the walls. At one time, they may have been white, but now they were a dull gray. Patrick pulled the long thick gray curtains shut and lit a row of candles that lined the mantel over the fireplace.

"And who might this young man be?" Patrick asked as he glanced over his shoulder at Dane.

"This is Dane. He and Clarissa are one now," Ashten answered.

"Ah, and he's here because...?" Patrick asked.

"Dane has a gift as well. The string is visible to him," Ashten replied.

Patrick was either unaware of how sensitive my gift was or simply didn't care if he was revealing. He was astonished as his eyes danced across each of us. The uneasy feeling coming from Ashten and my father was making itself known.

Patrick walked by us one by one, looking up and down. As he reached Landen, and me he stopped and stared into my eyes. A smile then came across his aged face, and his eyes seemed to lose a few years.

"Have you brought something to cover the color in your eyes? Especially Willow's? I would dare say even an old man like Donalt could see them in a crowd," Patrick stated humbly.

I took an uneasy breath and leaned back into Landen, too afraid not show my fear. Landen put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my head softly, taking my fears away and filling my soul with calming warmth.

"People here only have brown eyes. We have to wear a film over our eyes to change the color," Landen explained.

"Like a contact lens?" I asked.

"Yeah, just like that. It doesn't hurt."

My father pulled a box out of his pocket and passed out the lens to change our natural color to a stone black. Patrick walked over to a small closet and pulled out a long black scarf.

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