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“Upstairs, you worrywart.” I look at Owen. “Will you please keep him down here so I can pee in peace?”
“You can pee in the hall bathroom,” Haut grumbles as I run up the stairs.
At the landing, I stomp toward the bathroom and turn on the faucet before I tip-toe into Owen’s room.
I drop onto my stomach to crawl beneath the bed and wiggle up the loose floorboard. From the dark depths, I lift out my special bucket of secret things and open the lid.
Inside, the bat-shaped stone that represents Ros’s dad’s power rests on one side, with a new, rectangular stone on the other. The symbol engraved onto the front looks like the sign for female, only with horns. I had to look it up to discover it’s the alchemy symbol that represents Spirit.
I had found it on the beach under Bryant’s pyre once it burned to the ground and slipped it into my pocket before the others saw it.
Now, I have two stones of power, one for transformation and another for the soul.
I didn’t tell the others about it, not after the fear Ros showed when he gave me the first. Without asking, I know they’re not something I should have, and they might even get me in trouble.
Which is why they’re hidden under Owen’s bed. My dad’s huntsmen equipment hid under here for fifteen years, so it seems like a safe place to stash things I don’t want others to find.
Carefully, I add our knotted cord to the bucket and seal the lid to keep out dust or any curious mice before I drop it back into the hole. As I do, the sleeve of my sweatshirt rises, revealing a black squiggle. It had appeared on my inner wrist the morning after I killed Bryant, and no amount of scrubbing can erase it.
I tug my sleeve down before replacing the floorboard and crawl back out from under the bed. On tiptoes, I return to the bathroom and flush the toilet before turning off the faucet.
Then I grasp the thick handrail and slide down it, where Haut catches me at the bottom.
His moss-green eyes meet mine. “Everything settled?”
Suspicious, I stare up at him. Does he know about my secret hiding place?
He arches his brows in question.
Naw, I’m far too sneaky for him to have caught on.
I take his hand. “Everything’s great.”
We walk to the screened-in porch where the others wait with blankets against the early morning chill and pies for our stomachs.
Huddled together for warmth, we watch the celebration on the beach as the sun rises.
The End…For Now
