Hell, I couldn’t exist in my world without him.
But I knew, down in my soul, somewhere along the way,something was going to get fucked up.
I knew down to my soul…
My days were numbered.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Spoiled
Satrine
“Darling!”
After shouting his endearment at me, the reins were tuggedfrom my gloved fingers so Loren could right the phaeton I was driving.
I noticed this vaguely, seeing as, following the carriagethat held Mom, Maxie and Aunt Mary, I’d taken the turn onto an avenue, and I’dseen it.
Anditbeing all it was, I lost track of what I wasdoing with the horses.
“Good Gods, it’s amazing,” I whispered.
Mom’s carriage stopped in front of the block-long building.
Loren guided our phaeton behind it and came to a stop too.
I distractedly noted men wearing smart, blue uniforms lopingtoward us from a small hut erected on the pavement, as I sensed Loren securingthe reins then turning to me.
But mostly, through all this, I sat staring.
“It took five years and was brought painstakingly, sectionby section, by ship and then by land, and reconstructed here.The stone is soheavy, they could only put one piece aboard one vessel at a time, and there aretwenty pieces.It was a scandal throughout the realm, not only the cost of thattask of bringing it here, but what the taxpayers of Newton had to pay the DaxofKorwahksimply to have it,” he said.
I remained motionless in the carriage, attempting to take inthe enormous, exquisitely carved statue of a horse that stood at the front ofthe long, stately building.He was up on his hind hooves, striking at the air,his mane long and wild, his head proud and fierce, his nostrils flaring, and hehad to rise two, maybe even more stories up into the air.
Making him even more magnificent, his hooves looked to bemade of real gold, as were his bared teeth, not to mention the tips of his maneand tail, but his eyes could be nothing else but humongous rubies.
There was decorative, but most assuredly tall, stout anddangerous (what with all the spears on top) iron fence surrounding it, as wellas a contingent of those men in blue uniform.
My eyes drifted to Loren when he spoke again.
“It’s a statue of their horse god, and I’m told it isn’teven the most superlative of them.That one, apparently, is on the road thatleads to their capital city ofKorwahn,” Loren wenton.
I couldn’t imagine abetterone.That wasimpossible.
Loren wasn’t finished.
“This statue is guarded day and night and thousands ofpeople from all overHawkvale,LunwynandFleuridiahave taken the journey to Newton simplyto view it.”
“I can see why,” I replied.“I’ve never seen anything so…so…large.And so beautifully rendered.And so…so…magnificentlydaunting.I mean,it’s incredible, but it’s also terrifying, like he was a god at one point, andhe’s been turned to stone.”
And it was a “he.”They hadn’t left that part out in therendering.
Loren was smiling.“Most everyone, notKorwahkian,are in concurrence.And the citizens of Newton complain no more, due to thecoin spent by visitors in our hotels, shops and restaurants.And now, as youknow, Newton’s Museum of Cultures has another feather in their cap, beating outall others in the Northlands to show this exhibit ofFirenztribal history.I’m not sure any museum anywhere has ever had an exhibit thislarge of anything from Triton.It’s only recently, due to the Mar-el piratesallowing passage after freeing the seas that made it possible.”
This being why we were there.
Multitasking, Loren was giving me a phaeton-driving lessonon the way to see said exhibit.
