Page 95 of Lana Pecherczyk
“Be my guest.” He busied himself at the kitchenette’s sink, filling a bowl with water. “This will go faster if I speak straight to the source.”
Blake scanned the letter. “Okay, where was I … ah, yes.The Crow’s Path: Four Trials of the Heart.
“First comes sustenance, craft with care
A meal that shows your soul laid bare.
One must cook while one must wait,
As ancient customs dictate.
“Two brings broken objects whole,
Proving worth between two souls.
For in healing what’s torn,
Bonds of trust are born.
“Three is a mark of feathered kin.
Family crests must be etched within the skin
With sacred ink that binds and burns,
As each other’s loyalty is earned.
“Four, each shares three fantasies to explore,
One, a gift of pleasure your mate will adore.
Then let your primal instincts out to play,
With sexual chemistry now guiding your way.”
Blake’s eyes widened the more she read. When she reached the end and saw Ravi and Talo’s special bedroom tips for Lark and Tommas, she stopped reading and refolded the letter.
“Good on ’em,” she said. “It’s kind of nice that you have these customs to help a new couple get to know each other, especially since most are arranged matches.”
Perhaps she wouldn’t have ended up in a loveless marriage if there were customs like this back in her day.
Silence.
Blake glanced over and found River drawing blood from his fingertip with the distended claw on another, letting it drip into the water bowl.
“Great,” she muttered. “Now you’re summoning demons. You know what? Don’t even explain.”
A ghost of a laugh escaped him, but his focus remained on the bowl. “Summoning my parents, more like it.”
“Sure,” she intoned. “Because that also makes sense.”
While he conducted his spell, Blake’s curiosity got the better of her, and she examined each basket’s contents more closely. The wooden skewers River pulled out earlier were tattoo needles. The book contained intricate illustrations, including individual family and kettle crests of the Southeast Murder. Various food ingredients filled another wicker basket. The third, she liked. It was filled with construction tools like hammers, saws, nails, and knives. None were metal, only naturally found substances like flint, bone, and wood. Like River’s obsidian blade, mana-enforced glyphs reinforced each tool’s strength.
River growled at the water, looking ready to punch it before resetting his stance and drawing fresh blood.
“Nothing yet?” she asked.
He grumbled.
