Page 29 of Feathers and Thorns

Rook shrugged in an effort to look indifferent. “I never said I did not care. I’m simply being realistic.”

“Whatever you say, master.” Evelyn rolled her eyes before grabbing Meena’s hand and stomping a few yards ahead.

Rook cringed at the title—master. The word disgusted him. His father had instructed the girls to call him that, stating they should respect his generosity toward them. They only ever referred to him as master when his father was around, for fear of repercussion. He had requested to be called by his real name in all other instances.

Every time they had said it when Soren had been at the manor, he’d wanted to correct them, but he’d allowed it for their safety, knowing his father was set to arrive. After a week of hearing the term over and over, he had finally requested they stop referring to him in that manner. That was, of course, once he had known Soren would not say anything to Adriel. He would not risk the girls’ safety. They were the closest thing to family he had.

“Lift!” a husky female voice yelled from across the square.

Rook was pulled from his thoughts of Soren to see two men and a woman attempting to lift a fallen beam from atop another woman’s leg. She was screaming in agony, and her green eyes were brimming with tears. He watched on as they attempted to remove the obstruction, but the weight was too much. The woman screamed again.

They all cursed, and the men wiped their brows as the husky-voiced woman kissed the green-eyed woman’s forehead. He knew he should ignore them and stay on task, but the other injured had already been tended to, and this woman was actively in trouble. He sighed his annoyance and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Try again,” he said, wasting no time on introductions.

The husky-voiced woman looked away from her partner and dashed the tears from her eyes. She did not question the help, and her, along with the two men, joined Rook. They gripped the beam and, with a final heave, released the green-eyed woman from her ashy prison.

Meena cheered from the background, and Evelyn smiled.

“Lonny!” the green-eyed woman sobbed out as she slid herself from beneath the beam and hobbled to embrace the other woman.

“It’s okay, Lara. You’re okay.”

Rook observed the rings on their hands and deduced they must be married.

Lonny smoothed her wife’s hair and placed a soft kiss on each of her tear-soaked eyes. “Come,” she said. “Let me take a look at you.”

Rook watched on as Lonny tugged up Lara’s trouser leg to reveal a nasty bruise, though he thought it miraculous that her bone had not snapped.

They would have needed another three men to bear the weight of that post if he had not arrived. His shoulder had dislocated in the process of pushing his body past its limits to release her.

He sauntered over to Evelyn and stated plainly, “I need you to reset my arm. It’s dislocated.”

She raised her brow but quickly maneuvered his limp arm back into its socket with a sickening pop.

Meena, who had been cheering silently about Rook helping the woman, cringed at the sound. “You know, one of these times, something isn’t gonna heal right.”

“Well, let’s hope, for all our sakes, my father is dead before that happens.”

The girls opened their mouths then closed them, unsure of how to respond to his bluntness. Then, before either of them could muster up what to say, a comment from the female couple stilled their tongues.

“Thank the Maker Baztien wasn’t here. I can’t even think of it.”

The statement from the woman named Lara grabbed Rook’s attention, and he stalked over to them with renewed purpose. He stood over her expectantly. “What did you just say?”

Lonny put a hand on his chest and pushed him back a step. “That’s close enough. I appreciate you helping my wife, but that does not give you any right to invade her personal space.”

He held up his hands in faux apology. “I’m sorry. I just heard the name of someone I know. I’m looking for him. You did say Baztien, did you not? Do you know him?”

Lonny laughed as if it were the most ridiculous question in the world. “Baztien is our son.”

* * *

Rook would say he couldn’t believe his luck, but really, the chances of him finding Baz’s parents were statistically pretty high, considering the location and circumstance.

Rook and Evelyn sat across from the two women at Soren’s dining table while Meena finished preparing dinner. She was sure the meal would be bland without any fresh produce but was pleased to find that the cold cellar provided more than ample supplies for heartier fare.

They all nodded in understanding as the two women explained that they were Laraline and Alondra, Baztien’s adoptive mothers. Laraline then told them of the letters Baztien had been writing throughout their journey. She had been getting worried when she had received no news for over a week when, just yesterday, a letter had arrived from Murkwall. He had said they needed to leave for their own protection and that they were on the road to Edras Mora.

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