Page 49 of Skalterra By Nightmare
At the register that morning, I curled my fist around the T-shaped scar on my palm. As much as I resented the marking, it was the only indicator that Skalterrahadbeen real.
Maybe the rotsbane had hurt the others. Maybe it had killed Ferrin, Galahad, and Orla on that train.
No evil Magicians had come bursting through the fabric of reality yet, so the Frozen God’s glacial prison had to still be in place. At the very least, Fana was probably alive.
But the others?
The bell over the front door rang as Liam walked in. My stomach clenched at the sight of him. I was worried about people I’d barely known for four days. It must be so much worse for him to be in the same boat but with his cousin.
And his parents.
“What?” Liam’s lips cocked into a confused smile as he handed me my morning bagel.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you’ve got a look on your face.”
“What, am I not allowed—” I cut off, remembering his assumed dead parents and probably dead cousin.
Liam laughed and pulled his apron on over his t-shirt.
“That face! Right there. You’re still making it.”
“I’m just listening to the rain,” I tried to cover. The steady beat of rain on the roof had followed me from the upstairs apartment to the shop. There was a cozy comfort in the pattering sound after so many days of sunshine.
Liam turned to look out at the street, and his brow furrowed.
“The rain?” His confused smile returned. I followed his gaze to the cloudless sky that shined down on the dry pavement.
My stomach clenched, and I strained my ears, focusing on the patter of rain that I could still hear tapping out a disjointed rhythm overhead.
I took a bite of bagel to keep from having to answer Liam about the weather. Unfortunately, it left the door open for him to keep talking.
“How did yesterday go with the posters?”
“Oh!” My cheeks burned hot, and I glanced towards Gams’s workshop door. “Mr. Lane says not to worry about the printing cost. He covered it.”
Liam nodded, and his brow furrowed.
“That’s good. And you were able to get them posted okay?”
“Um—” I hesitated. “Yeah. It was—”
“All this talk and no working!” Gams burst through the door to the basement, laden with more blue chickens. “What am I paying you both for?”
“For bagels.” Liam held up the brown bag. Gams gave him a grateful smile as she traded her armful of chickens for her bagel.
“You don’t need to keep painting them blue,” I said, watching Liam arrange the chickens on the front shelf. “I got the interview with Von Leer.”
“The blue chickens have gotten you this far. I’m not changing the color until I’m sure you are a Von Leer Viking,”Gams said as the front door swung open.
I recognized the weak-chinned man who’d bought a chicken a few days ago, and he gave Gams a jovial wave.
“What’ve you got for me this time?” he asked, crossing to the chicken shelf.
“Weren’t you just in here buying chickens the other day, Stanley?” Gams laughed through a mouthful of bagel. “Are you trying to deplete my stock?”
“One of my client’s kids saw it on my desk, and I let him take it.” Stanley plucked a new chicken off the shelf and crossed to the register to hand it to me. I tilted my head to the side, certain I could still hear rain pattering against the roof.
