Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1) by Brent J. Griffiths Page A

no kissing. Got it.”
    “Look if I do break up with him, you will
probably be a big part of the reason.” She reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Finn, please just give me a little time; let’s take it slow and hang out. Can
we do that?”
    “Sure,” he said.
     
    Old Hall had hired a psychic as part of the
entertainment. The Old Hall Ball planning committee had set up a makeshift tent
under the stairs.
    As Finn and Bex walked past it, she said,
“Come on, let’s get our fortune told. It’ll be a laugh.”
    Finn pulled back a little. “I really
shouldn’t. You know, with my field of study, I need to avoid the appearance of
supporting this type of thing. I must appear objective, you see.”
    Bex blew a raspberry and pulled him through
the curtained doorway.
    Inside an older woman sat at a small, round
table draped with a colorful cloth, with a crystal ball in front of her. She
was reading a paperback. She did not look up as she said, “Sorry, I’m on a
break. Can you come back in half an hour?”
    Finn started to turn, but Bex held his hand
firmly. “Please, can you just do us quickly? I don’t think I’ll be able to drag
my friend back in here later.”
    The woman glanced at them and started to
look back to her book but then did a double take and looked at them
quizzically. She stuffed her book under the table and motioned them to sit.
    “Hmm, I suppose I can make an exception.
Something seems interesting about the both of you. I sense something looming in
your futures; let’s see if we can find more details.”
    Finn caught Bex’s eye and then rolled his.
Bex pulled Finn further into the tent and they sat down.
    Bex spoke, “So something’s looming, is it
good or bad?”
    The woman raised her hand for silence and
leaned forward to look deep into the crystal ball, humming slightly to herself.
She rocked back and forth and then looked up at them sharply.
    “I’m sorry, I made a mistake. There is
nothing to see.”
    Finn stood and pulled Bex up with him.
“Come on Bex, we should go.”
    Bex followed along, disappointed with the
experience. As they stepped through the curtain she looked back and saw a tear
running down the face of the psychic.
     
    The coven was hiding out in the mines under
the ruined castle.
    The mines had been excavated during a
particularly boisterous period of the University town’s history, when the
castle had been under siege. The besiegers had been trying to dig their way
into the castle to kill those hiding inside. The besieged realized what the
enemy force was up to and had dug a counter mine to meet them. The besieger’s
mine was more professional and roomy. The desperate counter mine was cramped
and hurried. A bloody subterranean battle had been fought when the miners met.
The outcome of the battle was of crucial importance to the besieged and
besiegers, but now, however, no one really cared about who won or lost. It certainly
did not matter to the coven.
    What mattered to the coven was that there
was a concealed side passage that led to a spacious, hollowed-out area that
they could relax in. A place that they could feed in. The rock shielded them
from any potential rivals in the area and the ward they had activated on the
side tunnel prevented the uninitiated from stumbling in by mistake. The ward
also prevented the sounds of their feeding from escaping the cave, an important
attribute, as they were noisy eaters.
    The hollow was a place that they and others
like them had used in the past. The ward had been carved into the stone of the
passageway long ago, and they had merely needed to energize it when they
arrived. Unbeknownst to the uninitiated, the world was covered in wards that
Quickened had hidden in plain sight. Wards were carved into stone walls, woven
into the design of carpets, hidden amongst the chaotic graffiti scribblings of
the inner cities. Tthey were even carved into the wooden studs and supports of
buildings prior to the installation of drywall.
    In the