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“Actually, I have.”
“Where?” Annie immediately widened her eyes and craned her neck.
“Not here,” he clarified.
“Earlier at the book shop. I saw a pale man with platinum white hair dressed in black. He had the most amazing eyes.”
“I didn’t know you swung that way, Benji,” Annie teased with a smirk.
Ben rolled his eyes, looking for a moment every inch the nineteen-year-old college sophomore who still lived with his parents.
“I can admire a handsome face as much as a pretty one,” he returned. “Though neither interests me much beyond aesthetic appreciation.”
“Discussion for another day, I’m sure,” Annie said with raised brows. “But do go on about this striking pale man you saw.”
“He was standing in the shadows between the shelves, staring unblinkingly at Brigid during story time.”
“Fascinating.”
“But he disappeared when I turned away for half a second. I have no idea if we’ll see him again.”
“If he’s the one we’re looking for, assuming we’re looking for the Pale Prince, and not merely a ‘myth,’” Annie said, “and assuming we find him again, would our quest immediately conclude? Would we all poof back home with the prince in tow?”
“I don’t know,” Ben muttered. “This is my first quest too. I suppose that’s a logical deduction, based on what Ere told me.”
“So then, if we don’t automatically get transported back home, we haven’t really completed our task, and we keep looking?”
“Sounds about right,” Ben agreed.
“There was definitely something…special…about the man. His eyes…”
“What about them?”
“They remind me of dragon eyes.”
Annie frowned in thought.
“Well, I wouldn’t know much about that. You’re the expert. It’s just my luck that the first time I agree to try this dragon—or rather—phoenix riding thing, my ride and I crash and burn.”
At that reminder, the worry that had been pushed to the back of Ben’s mind came to the fore again.
“I hope your Uncle Ere and his Sorin are all right,” Annie voiced what he was thinking himself.
“I hope they’ve found a cure…”
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
New York City. Modern day.
“There is no cure for what ails him, I’m afraid,” Rain, the Pure Ones’ Healer, said, her eyes filled with sadness.
Ere took a few deep breaths to process this information.
A commercial flight that would have taken eleven hours from the Yukon to NYC took him five in dragon form. He’d carried Sorin like the most precious, fragile treasure in one front claw, while Cloud rode on his back. He’d never flown so fast and furiously in his life. And for such a long distance without rest.
Sorin would be proud of him if he knew. Why wouldn’t the big lug wake up so Ere could crow to him about it?
Why wouldn’t hewake up?!
