Read Online The Warrior Heir by Cinda Williams Chima - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cinda Williams Chima
Ads: Link
concrete stairwell with an ancient iron railing that descended below ground level. There was a door at the bottom.
Linda looked up and down the alleyway, then descended the stairs, motioning for Jack and his friends to follow her. She fumbled with the door—for a moment before it swung open on loudly protesting hinges. She looked back over her shoulder at them. "I told you it was open!" she said, then disappeared inside.
"I have a bad feeling about this!" Jack whispered to Fitch. Fitch shrugged. With Linda in charge, there was nothing to do but follow.
The doorway led into an ancient cellar. The smell of old paper and mildew and damp earth was overwhelming. Aunt Linda produced three powerful flashlights from her backpack. Only, just a little late. "Ouch!" Will had already banged his head on a low ceiling joist.
Jack let the beam of his flashlight play over the walls. They were lined with shelves filled with huge ledgers stamped with gold lettering. Everything seemed to be the same matte gray color, because it was all covered with a thick layer of dust. Fitch was already beginning to sneeze. High on the walls, above the ledger books, were rows and rows of numbered metal boxes.
An ancient wooden staircase provided access to the main floor of the building. Boxes of records were stacked on nearly every step, leaving only a narrow path to the top. Linda found a light switch on the wall by the steps, and the room was suddenly flooded with light.
"What are we looking for?" Jack asked his aunt. "And why can't we come back tomorrow?"
Linda was already lifting a ledger from the wall. She was surprisingly strong, considering her size, and manhandled the huge book onto the sloping reading table in the center of the room. She had a smudge of dirt across the bridge of her nose.
"We're looking for death records," she explained. "We need to find one for your great-great grandmother Downey. I estimate she died between 1900 and 1920. The courthouse won't be open tomorrow, so we'd better do this tonight."
The book on the table was labeled Death Book A. Jack looked over Linda's shoulder. The pages were covered with long columns of spidery writing. Name. Date of Death. Place of Death. Where Born. The dates at the front of the book were all in the late 1860s. Linda quickly turned over the yellowing pages, scanning them from top to bottom until she reached the back of the book. It ended about 1875.Too early.
"Couldn't you just write to Columbus to get this information?" Fitch asked, sneezing again. "Or look it up online?"
"They don't have electronic records back this far," Linda replied, lifting the book with Jack's help and replacing it in its slot. "Besides, I'm in a hurry. Now we need to look for Death Book B or C."
The ledgers on the shelves seemed to be in no particular order. The volume next to Book A was labeled BB and was dated 1950s. They split up to scan the spines of the books on all sides of the room. It was a real mixture. Common Pleas Court proceedings. Will books. Land records.
Jack's eyes kept straying to the staircase that led to the main floor. That was the police station he'd seen across the parking lot; he was sure of it. Would a passion for genealogy be considered justification for breaking and entering? Aunt Linda had always seemed to make up rules as she went along, but he'd never known her to break the law.
Then again, perhaps he didn't know her very well.
Will was methodically working his way through a stack of ledgers, no doubt motivated by the fading prospect of a late dinner. "Hey!" he said suddenly. "What dates were you looking for?"
"Early 1900s," Linda replied, moving to look over the book he was examining. "This might be it." She ran her finger down the page, then flipped several pages back. "This is the right time frame." These later entries included information about cause of death, mostly ailments Jack had never heard of: scrofula, dropsy, brain fever. Some he had seen only in
Linda looked up and down the alleyway, then descended the stairs, motioning for Jack and his friends to follow her. She fumbled with the door—for a moment before it swung open on loudly protesting hinges. She looked back over her shoulder at them. "I told you it was open!" she said, then disappeared inside.
"I have a bad feeling about this!" Jack whispered to Fitch. Fitch shrugged. With Linda in charge, there was nothing to do but follow.
The doorway led into an ancient cellar. The smell of old paper and mildew and damp earth was overwhelming. Aunt Linda produced three powerful flashlights from her backpack. Only, just a little late. "Ouch!" Will had already banged his head on a low ceiling joist.
Jack let the beam of his flashlight play over the walls. They were lined with shelves filled with huge ledgers stamped with gold lettering. Everything seemed to be the same matte gray color, because it was all covered with a thick layer of dust. Fitch was already beginning to sneeze. High on the walls, above the ledger books, were rows and rows of numbered metal boxes.
An ancient wooden staircase provided access to the main floor of the building. Boxes of records were stacked on nearly every step, leaving only a narrow path to the top. Linda found a light switch on the wall by the steps, and the room was suddenly flooded with light.
"What are we looking for?" Jack asked his aunt. "And why can't we come back tomorrow?"
Linda was already lifting a ledger from the wall. She was surprisingly strong, considering her size, and manhandled the huge book onto the sloping reading table in the center of the room. She had a smudge of dirt across the bridge of her nose.
"We're looking for death records," she explained. "We need to find one for your great-great grandmother Downey. I estimate she died between 1900 and 1920. The courthouse won't be open tomorrow, so we'd better do this tonight."
The book on the table was labeled Death Book A. Jack looked over Linda's shoulder. The pages were covered with long columns of spidery writing. Name. Date of Death. Place of Death. Where Born. The dates at the front of the book were all in the late 1860s. Linda quickly turned over the yellowing pages, scanning them from top to bottom until she reached the back of the book. It ended about 1875.Too early.
"Couldn't you just write to Columbus to get this information?" Fitch asked, sneezing again. "Or look it up online?"
"They don't have electronic records back this far," Linda replied, lifting the book with Jack's help and replacing it in its slot. "Besides, I'm in a hurry. Now we need to look for Death Book B or C."
The ledgers on the shelves seemed to be in no particular order. The volume next to Book A was labeled BB and was dated 1950s. They split up to scan the spines of the books on all sides of the room. It was a real mixture. Common Pleas Court proceedings. Will books. Land records.
Jack's eyes kept straying to the staircase that led to the main floor. That was the police station he'd seen across the parking lot; he was sure of it. Would a passion for genealogy be considered justification for breaking and entering? Aunt Linda had always seemed to make up rules as she went along, but he'd never known her to break the law.
Then again, perhaps he didn't know her very well.
Will was methodically working his way through a stack of ledgers, no doubt motivated by the fading prospect of a late dinner. "Hey!" he said suddenly. "What dates were you looking for?"
"Early 1900s," Linda replied, moving to look over the book he was examining. "This might be it." She ran her finger down the page, then flipped several pages back. "This is the right time frame." These later entries included information about cause of death, mostly ailments Jack had never heard of: scrofula, dropsy, brain fever. Some he had seen only in
Similar Books
