Page 37 of Keeper of All

“What was that?” A deep, rich, accented voice asked from a part of undergrowth.

Ekon jerked to standing, his animals not alerting him to any presence. A man with deep honey skin and startling green eyes, dressed in a feather coat materialized in front of him.

His mouth dropped open as he appeared to unfold, reaching well over six and a half feet.

The house was warded, and the gate was locked with a keypad entry, and there was a high wall enclosing the property. Not that any of that would stop an assassin, but the magic would hurt to penetrate. The man had clearly made no sound as he’d arrived—from thin air. Were the magic wards of his making? He had a faint recollection of Felix mentioning something when he first arrived. With the tiredness it was hard to recall.

“I believe you are looking for me.” His accent was as thick as molasses. He inclined his head to where the journal had landed at Elon’s booted feet.

“You’re Featherman,” Ekon exclaimed, blushing so hard it added to his humidity issue at how alarmed he sounded.

Deep chuckles and another head bob.

Ekon sat back down hard and winced. “Did I… did I summon you?” How else was he here? No one can just materialize from thin air, can they?

“Do you mind if I sit?”

Ekon shuffled down on the seat and seeing the journal, reached for it without thinking. He grimaced and dropped it on his lap, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity.

“It holds the pain of many between the pages.”

How the hell would you know, you haven’t touched it? Ekon kept that to himself, then wasn’t so sure when the man chuckled once more making himself comfortable. The feather coat looked heavy and very warm.

“Aren’t you boiling in that coat?” he asked when he wasn’t sure what exactly to say now the man was here. It wasn’t like he’d rehearsed for this. His mind was a tangle of questions more complicated than a spider's web.

“No.” He smiled softly. “There are no wrong questions. All you need to do is speak and they will come the way they need to.”

They weren’t touching, but Ekon felt a shift in the air, like it was preparing for a thunderstorm. It was electric against his skin. Unsure the man wasn’t doing something to him, Ekon waited for his animals' concern, when none came, he sighed in confusion.

“I mean you no harm.” The gentle expression never changed.

“See, it's hard to believe that when most people that told me that meant the exact opposite.”

His eyes were like a whirlpool of greens moving, shifting, and changing as he held Ekon’s gaze and stroked but one finger over the back of the hand closest to him. The magic connection was instant, and with it came knowledge that he spoke the truth.

The finger was gone a moment later, and Ekon could still feel the magical impression it left behind. “How did you do that?”

The feathers rustled as his shoulders rose and fell. “Magic, it uses your energy—"

“Seems as I’ve got very little of that of late, maybe that’s why whatever is inside me is on the blink.”

The look of confusion had Ekon smiling. “Not working properly.”

“Ah, yes. Except there is nothing wrong with your magic.”

He sounded adamant but so was Ekon, there was something wrong. He didn’t know what, just that there was. “Why do you say that when it feels off to me. Surely I would know? If it isn’t as you say, then can you help me understand it?” he asked with an urgency that felt forced from within.

He was already shaking his head before Ekon had finished talking. “What you seek is an ancient when you have been touched and blessed by one.”

The urge to punch something had Ekon rise and reach to pluck the journal up off his lap. He didn’t notice the pain with his mind in turmoil. He dropped it where he’d been sitting and paced away from the shade of the tree, immediately feeling the muggy heat hit him like a wet blanket.

He swung back around and frowned at the smiling man. “How is this a blessing when it was done against my will? When this eternal fae turned to dust then somehow that dust—ash—embedded itself inside me. Explain that to me please, because someone damn well needs to.” Exhausted all of a sudden at the spurt of temper he went back nudged the journal aside, and sat back down.

“I see your dilemma. I will need to seek my own answers before I can give you more.” The finger brushed the back of Ekon’s hand, and those eyes were a whirlpool again. This time the touch was different, it didn’t offer reassurance. And Ekon snatched his hand away.

Needing to put distance between them, he stomped off, sucked in a muggy breath, expelled it then swung back to ask, “What was that?” He was talking to an empty seat.

“What the fuck?” He searched the garden, where the guy had come from—or where he thought he’d come from—and found nothing. He even tried his magic to feel for the guy and gave up when he was sure a snake had slithered through the under growth.