“Rowan.” I turn to look at him, searching his eyes, seeing that boy in the picture and not the owl. “What are we going to do?”
He ruffles his feathers, silent—because he doesn’t have an answer.
“Rowan?” Ryder finally utters, dumbfounded. “It’s actually you?”
Rowan makes a soft hoo.
Ryder pulls out the chair beside me and lowers himself onto it, rubbing his hands over his face. “Give me a minute.”
I focus on the elf instead of my breaking heart. I want to cry; I want to scream. I’ve let myself become so invested, and now we’ve hit a dead end.
“You disappeared seven years ago,” Ryder finally says, dropping his hands. “Where have you been?”
“Here,” Rowan says quietly.
Ryder swears, startling me. “What the oblivion, Rowan? And you never came to me? To Marshall?” The elf’s green eyes flash. “Does Marshallknow?”
“The only one who knew was Laverna.” He growls. “And now Kit, Ash, and Ansel.”
“Ash already knew,” I say softly. “He just didn’t say anything.”
Ryder shoves his hand into his hair, reeling. “What happened?”
Rowan tells his story, and I listen numbly, my mind working.
We need an elf.
Where are we going to find another one?
“Keira,” Ryder suddenly whispers. “Oh, stars, Rowan. What about Keira?”
“Don’t,” Rowan says, sounding exhausted. “Just leave her be. She’s already moved on with her life.”
“She thought you abandoned her,” Ryder whispers harshly. “You can’t let her live her life thinking that.” He pales. “Your uncle.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rowan says stiffly.
“Rowan—”
“No.”
Ryder suddenly stands and pulls out his cell phone.
“Who are you calling?” Rowan demands, flapping his wings, highly agitated.
When Ryder walks away, refusing to answer, Rowan leaps from the chair and dive bombs him, knocking the cell phone clean from his hand.
“What the—” Ryder cuts himself off, turning to glare at Rowan, who lands on the back of a different chair. “What’s your problem?”
“What do you think my problem is? I’m a bird!”
Ryder picks up the phone, looking tempted to heave it at his feathered friend.
“You can’t call Keira,” Rowan warns.
“I don’t even have her number.”
“Then who were you calling?” Rowan demands.
