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He laughed, low and sensual and lazy. “I am amazed by how little you know. Perhaps I shall rename you from Little Goddess to Little Sprout.”
I fired my foot at his face. Respectively.
He swatted it down. Respectively.
I hissed.
He laughed.
I flicked away my growing annoyance, curiosity taking the helm. “When you saidshedidn’t tell me about dreams, who isshe?”
“Ezra.” A nonchalant reply. As if it meant nothing. As if it were that simple.
“Ezra?” I bellowed, confusion clawing at my mind, raking it over like coals.
Downstairs, a door opened, the exchange of air flow causing the old house to creak and groan.
Von smiled, those predator eyes shifting to mine. “Ah, here she is now.”
I followed Von downstairs, my eyes boring holes in the back of his wild, raven-haired head.
Ezra’s cane leaned against the wooden, lightly varnished chair. She hummed as she helped herself to a plate of food, plopping the stir-fry onto the stone-colored plate as if it were just another day.
My mind seethed. My eyes narrowed.
Ezra. Was. Helping. Herself. To a plate of food. In this stranger’s house.
Because . . . she was familiar with it.
All those times. All those times that she left us, was she coming here? Why keep it a secret from us? Was this her refuge from us?
To think, I had imagined her being off on some sort of great conquest, like some hero from one of my books. The notion felt laughable now. Bitter and ironic. I choked it down, wondering if my teeth had rattled loose in my head because it felt like they had just been kicked in.
What else had she hidden from us?
“Such scary-looking eyes for someone who wishes to save the lives of the Cursed,” Von teased as he walked towards the counter. The carnage from my water harpoon was gone, the only remaining evidence being the doorless cupboard. He grabbed a cup and filled it with a dark amber-colored liquid—a drink in preparation, as if it were going to be a long night.
I scowled.
Ezra turned around, offering me a kind, warm smile as if we were back in the cottage, as if everything were normal. “I found an interesting rock on my way here. It’s in my bag by the door if you want to see. But I warn you, don’t peer too closely. I think it might trap souls.”
I clenched my fists. “Rocks, Ezra? Rocks?” I stalked towards her and slammed my hands down on the smooth wooden top, the utensils on her plate clattering in response. “All of these years. Is this where you came whenyouneeded abreakfromus?”
Ezra looked at me, her milky white eyes nearly as blank as her face. She opened her mouth and then closed it.
Without a word, Von refilled his glass before he proceeded outside. The light pitter-patter of rain sounded briefly as he opened the door, the peaceful sound cut off when he closed it. The smell of wet earth and fresh rain sifted through the house, soothing my livid nerves momentarily.
“Will you sit down and give an old fool a chance to explain?” she asked, her untouched plate gently scraping against the wood as she pushed it to the side.
I sat. Not willingly. But I sat.
“I want to know everything.”
“And so, you shall,” she said, her hands reaching across the table, feeling, in search of mine. I withheld them in my lap, the betrayal of knowing someone and then realizing you don’t know them at all burning up my insides.
She nodded, took a deep breath, and then she began. “You’ve always inquired about my travels, even when you were just a wee thing. I never gave a proper answer. But I suppose now, the time is right.” She paused, her voice lowering, as if the walls were listening. “I am one of the Cursed rebels. Throughout the years, my travels have led me to the Cursed Lands, or sometimes on various quests.”
I took a breath. Ezra was a Cursed rebel. It was a lot to take in, and yet, it made sense.
