“Banish that wretched thing at once!” I growl.
“Hon, it’s just a little bat,” Riley says as he gives the thing a single poke on the head.
I shudder before I realize we have an audience. A woman and man in their forties stare at us while I look around the small underground room I’d impatiently waited in while I’d been separated from Riley. I chose to create a new Door here instead of using the location Onyx and her people know about.
“You must be the chosen ones,” the woman says, trying her best to pretend that Riley crawling out of my shirt is not strange at all. “I’m Sterling and this is my husband, Ridge.”
“She is our leader of sorts,” Lark explains before turning to Sterling. “Onyx met with their people, asking them for food. When they told her the food would be sent to us, she was not happy to make the trade, claiming she would spread the food equally among everyone.”
Sterling scoffs. “What lies. You know that food will never make it past the capital walls.”
“We brought some food just for us, but more is being gathered so that we can feed everyone tomorrow. In the meantime, we need to decide how we will safely disperse it without calling down Onyx’s wrath,” Lark says.
Sterling nods. “We will inform others and tell them to keep this quiet, but you know she has spies among us. There will be no way to keep them from knowing, but hopefully they won’t find out until our people have eaten.”
“For now, let us eat,” Lark says as she gestures at the bags we’d brought. “Call the others. We will discuss our next course of action while we do so.”
Lark turns to us and smiles. “I apologize that we really don’t have a table set to dine, but please take a chair so you can eat with us. I know you must be hungry as well.”
I can tell Riley just wants to sleep, but he quickly finds a seat and waves me to the one next to him as a few others come into the room. They introduce themselves, and while some seem wary of us, they all treat us with kindness. When they begin dishing out the food that Kim had sent with us, they want to give us heaping plates, and we have to fend them off and make them share it among everyone in the room.
“You don’t know how much this kindness means to us,” Sterling says. “It’s been so long since anyone has promised to help us.”
“What if you leave this realm?” Riley asks. “This land is plainly dying, and you are suppressed. Have you ever considered leaving?”
“It’s our home,” Lark answers. “For many of us, the only connection we still have to our magic is what is left in the ground. We can feel it… even if it dwindles by the day. The ideaof leaving that is devastating for most of us. If we could just find a balance between us…” She trails off.
“I fear a balance will never be made,” Sterling says. “But we can hope we’re heading in the right direction.”
“Our hope is that when we find peace, our goddess will return and heal our land,” Story tells us.
The feast is cheerier than I imagined it would be. It reminds me of a time when my own land was filled with people I would dine with. The massive table in my palace would be full as drinks were poured and food was distributed. There was once so much happiness in those halls.
These people aren’t surrounded by a grand palace, they wear rags that hang off their bodies, and still, they try their best to be happy.
Lark turns to us. “We would be very pleased to have you stay with us for the evening. You can stay in our house with Story and me.”
“We can go back,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Please, I insist. I think it brings them joy to see you here. We once lost our faith in gods and goddesses… but having the four of you here to help, including two gods… I’ve not seen people this lighthearted in ages. They have hope for the first time in a long while.”
“I will sleep anywhere,” Mickey says. “I haven’t gone so long without sleep since the day I was born.”
“Wow, I’m very sorry we’ve put you through that,” Lark tells him, sounding earnest for some reason.
“Please ignore him. He doesn’t represent our people in the slightest,” Riley says as she and Story laugh.
“I want to be like him when I grow up,” Story comments, and I genuinely can’t tell whether he’s joking or not.
“Thank you!” Mickey says, beaming proudly before he smacks Vero’s chest. “You hear that, Vero, ol’ buddy ol’ pal? Someone wants to be just like me.”
Vero, who has said absolutely nothing since we came through the Door, just grunts.
“We’re on the fast track to becoming friends, but don’t fret, Riley, you’ll always be my best friend,” Mickey promises.
“Oddly not worried,” Riley says as he eyes Vero who looks like the last person to willingly become friends with anyone.
Lark takes us outside into the unlit streets. I think she notices us looking around because she glances up at the dark lampposts.
