Название | Betrothed |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Morgan Rice |
Жанр | Книги про вампиров |
Серия | Vampire Journals |
Издательство | Книги про вампиров |
Год выпуска | 2011 |
isbn |
Polly suddenly dove lower, without warning, getting closer to the rooftops. Either she didn't care about Sam following, or she just assumed that he would. It annoyed Sam. He wished she’d given him some warning, or at least cared enough about him to signal that she was diving down low. And yet, a part of him sensed that she did care. Was she just playing hard to get?
And why did he even care, either way? Didn't he just get through telling himself that he wasn't interested in girls right now?
Sam dove down lower, to her level, and they flew just feet above the city. But he also made a point of veering off to the left, so that they flew even further apart. Take that, Sam thought.
As they approached the city center, Sam was blown away. This time and place was so different, so unlike anything he had ever seen or experienced. He was so close the rooftops, he felt as if he could almost reach down and touch them. The majority of buildings were low, just a few stories high, and were built with slanted roofs, topped with what looked like huge piles of hay or straw. Most buildings were painted a bright white, with brown lines framing them. The churches – huge, marble, limestone – rose up out of the landscape, dominating entire blocks, and here and there were a few other large structures that looked like palaces. Probably, he guessed, residences for royalty.
The city was divided by a wide river, over which they now flew. The river was bustling with traffic – boats of all shapes and sizes – and as he looked over at the streets, he saw that they were bustling, too. In fact, he couldn't believe how packed they were. There were people everywhere, hurrying to and fro. He couldn't imagine what they could possibly have to hurry about. It wasn't like they had internet, or e-mails, or faxes, or even phones.
Still, other parts of the city were relatively peaceful. The dirt roads, the river, and all the boats provided a tranquil feeling. There were no racing cars, buses, horns, trucks or motorcycles revving. All was relatively quiet.
That is, until a sudden roar rose up.
Sam turned his head, and so did Polly.
There, off to the side, they spotted a large stadium, built in a perfect circle and rising several stories high. It reminded him of the Roman Coliseum, although much smaller.
From his bird’s-eye view, it looked as if there were some sort of large animal in the center of it, running around, with many other small animals running around it. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could see that the stadium was packed with thousands of people, all standing, on their feet, cheering and roaring.
He suddenly felt a tingling in his body as he watched. Not because he could tell what it was. But because he suddenly sensed Caitlin's presence there. Strongly.
"My sister!" he yelled out to Polly. "She's there," he said, pointing. “I feel it.”
Polly looked down, and furrowed her brow.
"I'm not so sure," she said. "I don’t feel anything."
She turned her head in the other direction, and pointed at the bridge looming before then. "I sense that she's there."
Sam looked, and saw a huge bridge spanning the river. He was surprised to notice that it was covered with shops of all sorts, and even more surprised to see, as they flew over it, that there were several prisoners standing there, on a scaffold, nooses around their necks, hoods around their heads. It looked as if they were about to be executed. And large crowds gathered around them.
"Okay," Sam said, and suddenly dove down low, right for the bridge. He figured he would pre-empt her, and be the first one to dive down this time.
Sam landed on the bridge, not turning around, and moments later, he sensed Polly land several feet behind him. She caught up to him, and the two of them walked side-by-side, keeping their distance, he not looking at her, and she not looking at him either. He was proud that he was keeping their relationship purely professional. There wasn't even a semblance of closeness, which was clearly what they both wanted.
Sam was amazed at the sights on the bridge. It was overwhelming, with so much stimulation coming at him from every direction.
"Tan your leather, son?” a man asked him, holding a piece of rawhide up in his face. The man's breath stank, and Sam dodged out of his way.
"Now where?" Sam asked Polly.
She scanned the bridge, looking everywhere for Caitlin, as did he. But there was no sight of her anywhere.
Polly finally shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I had sensed her here before, but now… I’m not so sure.”
Sam turned and looked off at the horizon, back towards that stadium.
“I sensed her back there,” he said. “In that stadium we flew over.”
"Okay,” Polly said, “let's go that way. But let’s walk – just in case she’s on the bridge."
As they walked across the bridge, through all the vendors, Polly seemed to cheer up again, to slowly become her jolly self. "Look at the fashions of all these people!" she said. "I mean, look at what they wear! It's amazing, isn't it? I don't think I would ever be caught dead wearing something like that. But I can see the functionality of it. I wonder how these fashions even come to be. I mean, how do they just change from generation to generation? So crazy, isn't it? And I was thinking, if I lived in this time, if I was one of these people, what color would I wear…"
Sam sighed. Polly had begun talking again, and he knew there was no stopping her now. Inwardly, he tuned her out.
As they walked, Sam scanned all the faces on the bridge, looking for any sign of Caitlin. He kept thinking he saw her, for a second, only to be disappointed. At one point, he saw a girl from behind that looked just like her, and grabbed her shoulder.
“Caitlin!” he exclaimed.
But the girl turned, and he was embarrassed to realize it wasn’t her; she gave him an odd look and walked away.
Soon they were over the bridge, standing on land, and Sam spotted a huge sign which read “Southwark.” He turned right, in the direction of that stadium.
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