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The big question.
Is it safe?
I shoved the mush around on my plate, my roiling stomach begging me not to. And by the looks of the others—minus Ezra who was busy chowing down—they were thinking the exact same thing. Apparently, Ezra’s cooking was more notorious than I realized. How many others had fallen victim to her so-called meals? Perhaps we should have a moment of peace, pray for those poor, poor souls.
Harper pursed her lips, her eyes shifting to Lyra, who looked genuinely horrified. The young boy, whose name I learned was Soren, braved the first bite. We all looked at him, waiting to see what horrors awaited us.
He tipped his head to the side, his brow furrowing, and then . . . he flashed a smile. “Wow, Ezra, this isactuallygood.”
I nearly fell out my chair. And by the looks of the others, they nearly did too.
I eyed Soren as he took another bite, and then another.
I was mystified. Somewhat intrigued. But mostly shocked.
Lyra caved next, testing a very, very, very small bite. We all watched her. Her face lit up and she offered the rest of us a thumbs-up.
The twins looked at each other, shrugged, and dove in, both tempting an impressively sized bite.
Von and I were the last man and woman standing. He gave me ago on, dig innod.
I returned the nod, bidding him to go next. He shook his head.
My grumbling stomach goaded me into submission, so I took my first bite. The Spirit Realm must have frozen over because it was . . . good.
As we ate, the sound of clinking utensils and conversation filled the air, but despite the warmth and laughter, I felt a sense of longing—a sense of sadness. Kaleb would have enjoyed this. He would have slipped into the conversations with ease, talking to Soren in his big brotherly way and impressing Ryker and Von with his extensive liquor knowledge. But instead of being here, he was somewhere out there. I glanced out the kitchen window hanging over the sink, my own guilt weighing me down.
The sun had almost reached its highest point in the crisp blue sky, not a single cloud in sight today. Was the sun shining where Kaleb was? Or was it cloudy there? The fact that I didn’t know bothered me enough that I excused myself from the table, put my plate in the sink, and slipped outside through the back door.
I inhaled a deep breath of fresh air as I leaned against an exposed timber. The mortar that used to surround it was cracked in places, bits and pieces on the weedy ground below. A layer of goosebumps dotted my skin as the cool October air brushed over my arms. I rubbed my hands together, but despite the chill, my mind was elsewhere.
My thoughts were with Kaleb and wherever he might be. Was he safe? Or was he . . . My thoughts stitched from worry to fear until one single question lingered—what if we failed?
My breath snagged in my throat.
A whisper of fluttering wings caught my attention and I looked to the sky. But in place of the bird I expected to see was a feather, as black as a starless night. I reached out, and although I couldn’t explain it, I just knew it would come to me—they always came to me. And sure enough, a gentle breeze nudged it along, and the onyx feather drifted into my hands. It was identical to the other ones I had found—shimmering and huge and radiant. Ethereal.
A shadow draped over me and the cool breeze floated away, my bare arms no longer cold. I looked up from the onyx feather into the eyes of Von—his eyes the same perilous black as the feather in my hands.
You found me, whispered a breathless voice inside my mind.
My eyes widened in surprise, and I dropped the feather. It was snatched up by the wind.
I scrambled, trying to get it back, but Von caught it with one swift reach.
His fingertips pinched the quill, the tip of the feather pointed towards the sky. He extended his arm towards me, his eyes locking with mine. “I believe this belongs to you.”
Slowly, I reached for it. Despite my carefulness, my fingertips brushed against his as I took the feather, and upon contact, a male’s voice—hisvoice—sounded in my mind.
As I promised I would.
I jerked away from him, clutching the feather against my pounding chest. He looked like he wanted to reach for me, but his expression receded and his hand slipped into his pocket instead. Casually, he watched me, the rise of his broad shoulders set at a steady, controlled pace.
Mine was the exact opposite as I stumbled for breath. “We should go inside,” I blurted out. The easiest answer to my current situation.
“As you wish,” Von replied with an unprecedented amount of dark swagger. His hand slipped around the brass handle and he opened the door, gesturing for me to go first, as if he were a gentleman. The notion was laughable.
As I passed the threshold, he turned and followed me inside, his body a breath behind mine. He dropped his head over my shoulder, whispering in my ear in his deep baritone, “Do you know what causes a predator to chase something that runs from it?”
