Page 65 of Lost

“Delicious to devour.

With this payment do you agree?

Or shall we fly free?”

“Um, no! I mean yes. Yes, you can have the hair. It’s not like Aphrodite’s still using it.” He held the four strands between his thumb and forefinger, offering them to the sprite.

“With this payment we do agree

Offered by thee and accepted by me

Our deal is sealed—so mote it be!”

The sprite took the strands of hair from Kevin. She tossed them into the air, where they suspended, floating without moving, but stretched out like four thin ribbons of silk waiting to be threaded through the eye of a needle. Then the sprites descended upon them, one sprite for each end of each strand, which they sucked into their strange mouths, finally coming together in the center like a totally bizarre version of the spaghetti scene fromLady and the Trampbefore they took off, disappearing into the sky.

“That was crazy. Seriously. I wish Zo was here so that she’d seen it too. I’ll bet it’d crack her up that the sprites ate Aphrodite’s hair.” He was chuckling to himself when a loud croak had him squinting up into darkness that moved, shifted, and finally turned into a raven, circling to land on the brown winter grass beside him.

“Tatsuwa! Man, I’m glad to see you!”

“Redbird Boy!” the raven said.

“Yeah, that’s me. Okay, you gotta get a message to Dragon. Like, now.” Kevin squatted beside the big bird. He was relieved to see that Tatsuwa had a leather thong around his neck, and from it dangled a small plastic container, the kind you might store salt in. He slid it from around the bird’s neck and opened it. Inside was a piece of folded paper and a small pencil.

Using his satchel as a desk, he sat on the ground and wrote quickly.

Neferet has a stash of modern weapons in the basement of the HoN. Ten crates of grenade launchers. Ten crates of M16s. Ammo for everything. She’s planning to attack soon to the south. Don’t know when yet.

He paused then, chewing the end of the pencil. He had to tell them about Aphrodite’s vision and the danger the Resistance was in, but he didn’t want to make her a target. Deciding quickly, he continued to write.

Neferet has intel about Resistance hiding people in round bales. Red Army heading to Lone Star Rd. and the hayfields there tonight. If you are sneaking people out that way, you only have an hour or so to get them away. I’ll be with the army.

He paused again, and then added,Had to use Old Magick to call the bird. We need to find a better way… K

He reread the note and then, satisfied, he folded the paper and put it back in the jar with the pencil. The raven croaked at him, and then hopped to his side, lifting his head so that it was easy for Kevin to slip the leather tie around his neck.

“Hey, I don’t know if you can understand me or not, but if you can you’ve got to keep a better eye on me. I don’t feel right using Old Magick as much as I’ve had to. Plus, I’m running out of things to pay the sprites with. Uh, hang on. Mind if I borrow a feather of yours?”

The big bird cocked his head to the side, studying Kevin.

“Bird Boy!”he said, and then turned, obviously offering him a tail feather.

“Dude, you’re pretty cool for a bir—I mean raven.” With a quick pull, he yanked out one of Tatsuwa’s long, black tail feathers.

The raven’s squawk of protest echoed off the stone wall as the bird took flight. He circled Kevin once, neatly dropping a warm, wet blob of bird shit on his head.

“Hey, thanks a lot!” Kevin shouted at him, trying to wipe the mess from his hair. “Well, at least it doesn’t smell as bad as the blood perfume.”

* * *

Zoey

“Okay, so, let’s review. Who can tell me why Thanatos died when Neferet broke the protective spell she’d cast over the Mayo Hotel?” I asked and then paused, glad to see several hands go up.

You never know about teaching. Some days everything goes smoothly and the students do their homework and act right. And sometimes it’s like every brain cell in their heads has been turned off—unless you mention boobs or accidentally cuss. I’d been surprised that I actually liked teaching because, well, teenagers are as unpredictable as cats and often have less sense.

(Yes, I’m eighteen, so I’m still technically a teenager. But I’m also their High Priestess and sometimes their professor—so I’m pretty sure my teenagehood doesn’t count. Unless I mess up. Theneveryoneremembers how young I am. It sucks.)

I shook myself mentally and nodded at one very enthusiastically raised hand. “Samantha, what’s your answer?”