The House of Grey- Volume 1
Read The House of Grey- Volume 1 Online
Authors: Collin Earl
The House of Grey- Volume
#
1
By Collin Earl
Copyrigh
t 2012, SilverStone Books. All r
ights reserved.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold
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Table of Contents
Chapter 9- Flirting with Trouble
Chapter 11- A Teacher Like None Other
A Message from the Author
Before you start this adventure with me, I want to give you a word of caution. This is NOT a traditional novel—not even close.
The House of Grey
has always been a labor of love for me as an author. I wrote it mainly because I wanted something that I thought
I
would enjoy—a story that spread across genres and spoke to many different readers and tastes. I wanted a story that had action, comedy, romance, and thrills, spearheaded by a dynamic, diverse, and lovable cast. I got just that in
The House of Grey
, which was released as a serialized audio book through iTunes and
Podiobooks.com
from 2008 to 2010.
Because the characters and plot were so dynamic, it ended up blossoming into a 300,000-word beast of a tale. It was a great story, as confirmed by the hundreds of thousands of downloads and hundreds of reviews from fans, yet the problem was its sheer size. From a publishing standpoint, there was no way to split
The House of Grey
into manageable story lines without losing some of the stuff that makes it great. Basically, the book was too big and dang near impossible to change without completely changing the story. Thus, my dilemma: what do I do with this book that touched so many people with its characters and story, and turn it into something that I can feed into the mainstream YA novel format?
That's when it hit me—I should put the story out on my terms. So, I now introduce you to
The House of Grey
Volumized Series. Since the story got its start as a serialized audio production, I decided to apply that model to
The House of Grey
print version. I know that if you are willing to break from the norm, this story will rock your socks off.
-
Collin Ear
l
Prologue
It was an average day in Western Washington, where average people went about their average lives. These average folks went to work and school, got stuck in traffic, and opened business for another day.
School kids played in oversized raincoats while mud spattered around their ankles and large droplets of rain ran the length of their Scotch-guarded clothing. Parents moved slowly through water-covered streets as they navigated the early morning of one of the wettest days of the year.
Ironically enough, it is these average days that so often become more than just an average day. Why, might you ask, did this day that started like all the rest become more than average? Well, it started with the dream of a man and a boy, a whole lot of studying, and a little bit of luck.
An important-looking man stood on a stage in an event center in downtown Seattle. He was very well dressed, as if he were hosting a black tie event. His brown hair was groomed to perfection and the glare of stage lights reflected off white teeth. He spoke to a huge crowd of people in a smooth, almost silky voice.
“
Ladies and gentleman, in my five years of hosting this competition I have never seen anything like this. Our Challenger and Champion are neck and neck as they go into the fin
al questions of the afternoon.”
Cheers erupted all around as the huge crowd bellowed its approval at the man's words. This crowd was a spectacular one, composed of all kinds of people. Every age, sex, race, and ethnicity was present, because for the first time in fifteen years, the Coren University Academic Scholarship Competition had come down to its last round, to its last question. This was a great day for those who believed in and cheered for the underdog, as they believed this particular one had a real chance to upset. An upset that for more than one secretive and unfair reason should not be happening—should not happen now, or ever.
This underdog looked the part, but he was not playing his assigned role well at all. Although clearly from humble origins, he spoke eloquently, neither abashed nor intimidated, blending in well among an unfamiliar
crowd. He was handsome, with thick hair of darkest black, extraordinary blue-gray eyes, and a kind face.
He gave off an air of both importance and conviction that was infectious. In truth,
every time he stood to answer a question, a portion of the crowd would break into raucous applause. They wanted him to win, and they wanted him to feel that they wanted him to win . . . and feel it he did. The young man, being the humble sort, merely smiled in reaction to the crowd, showing his gratitude with the slightest of gestures. An occasional, almost embarrassed wave and a simple smile made the mothers and daughters sway and the fathers wonder what they needed to do to raise a young man like that.
This competition was an uphill battle for this young man, an unknown in all circles from the political to the popular. He swept onto the scene with blaring intelligence, decimating contestants more than three years his senior. Slowly, the hearts of those who witnessed his struggle melted as over and over again he fired off answers to history's mysteries. Things went so well that by the time the finals came around, the underdog was not so “under” anymore.
The man hosting the event put up a hand as the crowd, in the spirit of competition, let out another thunderous round of applause. He showed them a toothy smile.
"Now it has all come down to this, ladies and gentlemen, our challenger still holding strong right behind our champion as we go into the final round."
More applause and catcalls split the air.
"Let me remind our audience of the scoring scale. Each question is worth five points, with the ability to pass to their opponent up to three questions, in addition to a 'doubler' in each round. Depending on how quickly you answer, the doubler can become a ten-point question."
The crowd was not paying attention to this part. This was just a wannabe game show host doing his wannabe game show thing. They had heard all this explained before, but wait —
"I know what you are thinking," the man said, his coy smile becoming more mischievous by the second. "
We know all this. Why are you repeating it?
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll tell you why I’m repeating myself: This round is going to be a little different."
The crowd went silent at his words. Something different, they asked collectively. What could they possibly do differently? No, they couldn’t change it now. Do
not
mess with the status quo; there is too much at stake.
"I would remind you," he said, gaining momentum now that he knew he had their attention, " that you will all find out as we go into this last round." He turned and looked at a large television camera. "I will let you know all this and more —right after this."
People groaned at his pronouncement. It was given that an entertainer would cut to a commercial right when the show was getting exciting. For those in the audience, however, it was downright annoying.
Despite the relatively short break, most of the people in the audience grumbled as the stagehands made the necessary changes for the final round of the competition. Each person in the audience took little notice of those around them. Many, after all, were rich and important. Of course, with the success of this no-name challenger, the commoners seemed to come out of the woodwork. Well, the rich and important did not have time for mingling with commoners. Keep your distance—it was an unspoken rule. However, every rule has an exception, and this one was no different.
A young girl, no older than five, sat in the back row in the last seat of the hall. She was beautifully dressed -with perfectly arranged hair courtesy of her personal stylist. Her family typically spent the day shopping at the most expensive stores, eating at the very best restaurants, and whiling away the hours on the streets of Seattle. Now they sat in a stuffy hall watching some sort of game show. In truth, she was too far back to really see what was happening and a little too young to even appreciate it. To her credit, she tried to act interested, she really did. Mommy and Daddy were acting like this was important, but she just couldn't get her heart into it, no matter how hard she tried.
What was the big deal anyway? There were so many people here and they were all paying close attention, especially to the pretty boy at the front. Actually, she wasn't even sure he was a boy. He kind of looked like a girl.
There was a noise behind the girl, startling her. She turned her little frame to peer over her shoulder. There was a man. She blinked in confusion.
Was he there before? She thought back to when she entered the hall. She didn't remember anyone being there, but she hadn't been paying close attention. She pondered a moment more.
No, he couldn't have been there before. She was in the last row in the last seat. He must have moved his chair to that corner, but she would have heard him, she would have noticed.
Wouldn't she?
The girl pivoted again in her seat to look at him, trying to move so he wouldn't notice.
He was a funny man, wasn't he? He sat completely stationary, not moving at all. She wondered why he wasn't moving.
Maybe he was sleeping? This seemed like an odd place to sleep. She put his lack of movement aside for a moment as she noticed something else.
You really are a funny man, aren't you? Why are you
wearing such a big overcoat and hood? She laughed. His coat was funny, too. It didn't have any place for the arms. She giggled a bit more. Isn't that weird? Why make a coat without armholes? Oh, wait.
Maybe he was one of those people she saw on the road from time to time, the ones with the signs. A sad feeling crept into her heart. He had a funny coat because he couldn't afford another one. And . . . and she had laughed at him. How mean! That's not something you should do.
She had to apologize. That's what you do, right? When you make a mistake, you say I'm sorry.
But it looked like he was still sleeping. Should she wake him? If she did, she would have to apologize for waking him, too!
What she should do?
Oddly enough, as if he had been listening to her thoughts, the man sat up, one eye visible under the hood of the coat. It was a minute or so before she noticed.
She gave a start as she saw the dark eye of the man. Could eyes really even be that dark? It looked almost black. The girl continued to feel confused. Why did he pick black when something like pink is so much nicer? Grownups sure did funny things sometimes.
She knew better than to talk to strangers, but her childish curiosity getting the better of her,
she lifted up a hand and waved.
The man smiled back.
Oh, what a nice smile. You should really smile more often; you wouldn't be so scary. Hey, what are you doing?
The man sat up a little straighter and leaned toward the little girl. Despite the fact that she had decided he was a nice man, she shrank back. OK, he was still a little scary.
The man lifted a hand out from underneath his funny coat showing her there was nothing in it.
Oh I see, you are about to do magic, aren't you? There was something like this at her birthday party last year. This man, however, was a bit different than the clown she had seen so many months ago. When the clown did magic, he showed her and her friends his hands. At first nothing was in them,
then,
poof
, there were flowers! It was amazing.
Her brother had said it wasn't real, that the flowers were fake and had just been hidden. She, however, knew that was crazy. Flowers don't just appear, and magic really existed—she had seen it. The little girl wondered if this man really was going to do magic.