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Buku Conquest by John Connolly

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Conquest by John Connolly

Author:John Connolly

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books

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Conquest by John Connolly

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The morning dawned bleak and dark, and the rain followed soon after, driven by a cold wind from the north. To those in the castle who loved Syl, it seemed that the world was already in mourning for her.

Syl had somehow managed to sleep a little, but when awakened there was no difference from sleeping, and the blackness pressed in upon her so that she felt she could not breathe. She panicked, and had to force herself to calm down. She tried not to think of her father, or Ani, or Althea. The thought of those who loved her brought no consolation. Instead, she only grew more conscious of the fact that she was to be taken from them, and might never see them again. But even in the midst of her own fear, she worried too about the human brothers. She hoped desperately that they had made it to safety, that this had not all been in vain.

 

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Biographies & Memoirs

Conquest by John Connolly

Author:John Connolly , Date: June 7, 2019

,Views: 60

Author:John Connolly

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The morning dawned bleak and dark, and the rain followed soon after, driven by a cold wind from the north. To those in the castle who loved Syl, it seemed that the world was already in mourning for her.

Syl had somehow managed to sleep a little, but when awakened there was no difference from sleeping, and the blackness pressed in upon her so that she felt she could not breathe. She panicked, and had to force herself to calm down. She tried not to think of her father, or Ani, or Althea. The thought of those who loved her brought no consolation. Instead, she only grew more conscious of the fact that she was to be taken from them, and might never see them again. But even in the midst of her own fear, she worried too about the human brothers. She hoped desperately that they had made it to safety, that this had not all been in vain.

Eventually the door to her cell was opened, but her eyes had grown so accustomed to the dark that she had to cover her face with her arm until the light from the corridor, dim though it was, stopped hurting her. The Securitat who entered was only a few years older than she. He carried a tray in his hands. On it was a plastic mug of coffee, a plastic plate with buttered toast, and a small plastic cup filled with slices of apple that were already turning brown. The guard wrinkled his nose as he entered the cell. The smell from the chemical toilet—which was little more than a bucket of blue water—was strong.

The Securitat put the tray on a little table built into the wall, then stepped back. Two other guards stood at the door in case Syl decided to make a break for freedom.

“I can’t eat in the dark,” said Syl.

The guard looked to his colleagues for advice. One of them nodded.

“We’ll turn your light back on,” he said.

“What time is it?”

“Just after six.”

She tried to think of something else to ask him. After her night in the dark, she wanted someone to talk to. She did not want to be alone again yet. The guard seemed to sense this, because his face softened and he said, “Is there anything you need?”

Syl was grateful for this small gesture of kindness, this little act of generosity that cost so little but meant so much.

“A book,” she said. “And perhaps some water with which to wash myself.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said the guard.

He stepped out of the cell and the door closed behind him, but, as promised, the light came on. Syl ate her breakfast, and after a while the guard returned with a volume of poetry and prose that was given to every Illyri soldier, a basin of hot water, a towel, and a small bar of soap. Syl thanked him, and he acknowledged her gratitude with a tightening of his mouth that might have passed for a smile.

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