Page 65 of Keldori By Daybreak

“Oh, I—” I glanced down the street towards Aunt Olive and Uncle Teddy’s bagel shop.

“It’s no bother. Tuesdays are always slow for business, and I made plenty of extra chickens.” She pulled me inside with surprising strength for a woman of her age and tiny stature.

Her shop stocked a variety of items, ranging from food to touristy trinkets, but her chicken shelf was the crown jewel of her business. It stood near the door so that it was always the first thing customers saw when they came in, and today it was laden with a fresh fleet of red, orange, and yellow hens.

“Fall colors! What do you think?” Ethel beamed and gestured at the collection. “Take one! It’s yours! And grab a couple for your folks too. It’s been a while since they’ve been by the store.”

I took an orange chicken in my hand, and my heartbeat quickened as my nerves mounted.

“My parents—” I said, but the rest of the sentence didn’t want to come out through my tightening throat.

“Liam?” Ethel’s smile slipped away, and her blue eyes hardened behind her glasses. “What is it?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.” I forced a laugh. “They weren't home when I got back from school yesterday. Or today.”

“Oh, Liam.”

“But it’s fine!” I insisted. “They must’ve just gone out of town and forgot to say something. I was on my way to Aunt Olive’s just now because they didn’t leave enough food in the fridge.”

Ethel nodded through tight lips and stood aside.

“Of course. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll call your aunt for you.”

The sudden shift in her demeanor put me on edge. I ran a thumb over the smooth, glazed surface of the orange chicken in my hand. There was a strange comfort in the touch as I followed Ethel to the door behind her register and up the rickety wooden steps to her apartment.

The sun was already hanging low over the bay outside the window, and it cast the living room and kitchen in shades of muted gold.

“Sit, sit! Make yourself comfortable!” Ethel gestured at her couch. “You must be hungry then. Have you eaten at all today?”

“I bought lunch at school.” I sat on the sinking couch, and a blonde Persian padded out from under the table to paw at my leg. “Jonquil’s getting big.”

I scooped the kitten into my lap, and she curled up on my knees, purring. The sound made my heart beat a little calmer, but I still felt like I was falling in slow motion and I was bracing for the hard ground to greet me.

“Sarah?” Ethel stood at her sink with her phone pressed against her ear. “Has there been any word from Anrai and Sloane since they left?”

I scratched Jonquil under her chin. I knew Sarah, but wasn’t familiar with those other names. Something about them itched at the back of my head, though. Sarah’s voice buzzed indecipherably on the other line, and Ethel shifted through the porcelain chickens on her kitchen window shelf as she listened.

“Liam’s here. He says his parents haven’t been home in a couple days, so—” Ethel cut off to hiss through her teeth. She stepped back from her sink, holding two chickens from her collection. “Yeah, they’re cracked. Dammit. Dammit.”

She leaned against the counter with her head bowed. Sarah continued to talk through the phone, but Ethel set the phone on the counter. She pulled a drawer open, and set the broken chickens inside.

“Sarah?” There was a new crack in Ethel’s voice when she put the phone back to her ear. “Tell Gladys to send Eliza. I normally wouldn’t rush it, but they were the last Grimguards. They’ll need replacements, especially if someone is targeting the Sovereigns.”

Ethel’s eyes met mine as she said that last word, though I wasn’t sure what or who she was talking about. She ended the call but immediately scrolled through her contacts, searching.

“What’s a Grimguard?” I asked. “And who are Anrai and Sloane?”

“No one. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” She returned the phone to her ear. “Eliza! You aren’t busy are you? Gladys is about to call. It’s Anrai and Sloane. No. They’re gone. We need you to go to Darragh’s Watch and tell the families. Yes, we’re sure. I’m sorry.”

Ethel set the phone down on the counter and stared into her sink.

“Miss Warrender?”

“Yes, Liam?”

“I’m sorry about your chickens.”