Sanctuary (Roman’s Chronicles #1) Read Online Ilona Andrews

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Roman's Chronicles Series by Ilona Andrews
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
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The trees remained silent.

“You know what, I’m going to drag this tree to you, and then I am done. I quit. Kill me, I don’t give a fuck.”

He started forward, stomping through the snow. The tree slid behind him like his personal ball and chain.

“Excuse me,” a soft male voice said from his left, his tone tentative and cautious. “Can you see me?”

Roman glanced to the side. Farhang floated next to him, levitating about four feet off the ground in a classic cross-legged pose. He wore a white layered robe, pinned to his waist by a golden sash. White cloth wrapped around the top of his head, leaving his long dark hair to fall loose on his shoulders. He was clean-shaven, free of dirt, and his body glowed weakly with a pale golden light.

“This is your answer?” Roman demanded.

Silence.

“I suppose not,” Farhang murmured. If there ever was a need for a visual example of being crestfallen, he was it.

Roman sighed. “Hello, Farhang.”

Farhang’s eyes lit up. “You can see me, and you know me?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’ve met your body.”

“Oh. Um, if it’s not too forward… Do you happen to know where my body is right now?”

“In my house, in front of a fireplace. I have a magic beast sitting on you to keep you asleep.”

“May I ask how I got into your house?”

He seemed a little fragile. Hitting him with you showed up at my house to forcefully remove a child from my care might have been too much. “You came with some mercenaries.”

Farhang’s face fell. “I did?”

“Mhm.”

“And it wasn’t a friendly visit?”

“No.”

Farhang hesitated. “Did I hurt someone?”

“You gave it a very good try.”

Farhang winced.

“It’s all good. Nobody that mattered was injured.” Roman kept moving forward. “I figured out something was wrong pretty much from the get-go, so your body is unharmed.”

Mostly. Mostly unharmed. Roro had really sharp teeth.

“I’m very sorry. My deepest apologies.”

“Apology accepted.”

Roman marched forward. Farhang hung next to him, keeping pace.

“The woods are a nice change,” Farhang said after a while. “There is something about the scent of fir trees and pines that touches the soul.”

“It’s primeval,” Roman said.

“Yes. That’s what it feels like.”

“Pines are ancient. They evolved before flowers did, almost 200 million years ago. Flower aromas are layered and complex, while the scent of pine is a simple fragrance. Yet every human responds to it. We know it by some forgotten instinct.”

Scents and memories were intertwined. It wasn’t the pines’ fault that the memories they conjured set his teeth on edge. He couldn’t sink into that dark hole right now. He had company.

“Where do you usually float?” Roman asked.

“Over a grassy plain with distant snowcapped peaks in the background. I believe it’s the landscape of Northern Iran. Somewhere near Sareyn, perhaps.”

“Sounds picturesque.”

“Oh, it is,” Farhang nodded. “A grand landscape, very vast. Feels almost infinite. And very lonely.”

“How long has it been since you spoke to another human?”

Farhang pondered it. “Three years? I think.”

All gods were assholes.

“What happened?”

Farhang sighed. “I swore a holy oath to defeat someone in the name of my god. I was warned against swearing it, but things got dramatic, and I swore it anyway. There was a woman involved.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Roman said. A woman was the reason he was dragging this cursed tree. Morena and Chernobog rarely fought, but they must have clashed over something this time, because the tree was clearly an apology gift.

Farhang smiled. “I failed to keep my pledge. The oath splintered me in two. My body, with a sliver of my consciousness, is in the physical world. The rest of me is here, locked out.”

Three years floating in solitude, without any idea what was happening to his body. Yes, I get it, Dark One, point made. It could always be worse. I don’t care. I’m still quitting.

“Have you attempted to appeal?” Roman asked. “Three years is a long time.”

“Unfortunately, the Triad is of the opinion that since I ignored the explicit warning and got myself into this predicament, it is up to me to pull myself out of it. So far, I haven’t been successful.”

Many years had passed since his divinity classes. Roman raked his brain, trying to remember the particulars of the Ahuric Triad. There was Ahura Mazda and two others… He was pretty sure one of them was the god of covenants. An oath was a covenant, a contract. As a magav, Farhang would be held to the strictest of standards.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you are angry with your patron deity,” Farhang said.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“In my experience, gods are selfish. They don’t always explain things, but they do love us, for we are their chosen.”

“Love is too strong a word,” Roman said. “They use us. We are the instruments of their will. They have a vested interest in keeping us alive, but should we perish, they will simply find another.”


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