Page 43 of Magpie
“Is he going to wake up any time soon?” I ask for the third time as I tap my foot incessantly. I’m sitting in a chair nestled directly beside the front door, ready to bolt the second it’s unlocked. The only problem is, there are more locks on this door than I have ever seen, some that I’m not even sure how to begin going about unlocking.
Lyric looks up at me from her spot sprawled out on a couch in the other room. She lowers the book she’s reading for a moment, flashing me an incredulous look. “He sent you to the edge of a different realm to retrieve a weapon without asking for anything in return, and you’re mad that he’s taking a nap?”
“No,” I snap, narrowing my eyes at her. “I’m mad that you locked the door and won’t let me out. I don’t exactly need to tell him goodbye.”
Lyric simply shrugs, picking the book back up and engrossing herself in it again. “He told me not to open that door.”
“You opened it the other day just fine,” I growl.
She licks her finger and flips the page, not even glancing at me as she says, “I’m feeling more obedient today.”
I swallow a grunt of frustration, running my hands through my hair. Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes, trying to slow my racing heart. Peeking an eye open, I look at Lyric again. She’s holding the book with both hands. “I can’t help but notice your arm seems perfectly fine today,” I say.
“Aren’t you perceptive,” she chimes, flipping the page.
“Did he heal you?” I can’t stop myself from asking, scowling when she snorts.
“Who else would have?” she mutters.
I’m having a hard time imagining Alister assisting me that way. Then again, his lessons never put me in any real danger. How could they? I was the danger.
“I guess Ronan learned empathyaftertraining Alister,” I grumble, and that finally gets her attention. She sits up, shutting the book and looking at me properly. She doesn’t flinch at the sight of me, doesn’t so much as shy away from the darkness oozing out of me. Instead, she looks almost…sad. Sympathetic. I find I liked it better when she was being an ass.
“I’m going to assume you and I have had very different experiences in life,” Lyric says, and I let out a hollow bark of laughter, but she continues, undeterred. “But I will make one thing very clear: whatever atrocities this Alister put you through are not Ronan’s fault. We might both be women who found themselves bound to a mage, but believe me when I say Ronan is nothing like your master.”
“He isnotmy master,” I seethe, clenching my hands tightly. Lyric gives me that same sympathetic look again, and I find myself wanting to claw it from her face. I don’t need her sympathy; I need her to let me out.
“Regardless, Ronan actually cares, even if he has a shit way of showing it. And”—she pulls the book back toward her and focuses on the page—“if you tell him I said a single word of that, I’ll…” She trails off, as though she realizes there isn’t much use inthreatening me with death. I smile grimly at her, and she shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. He won’t believe you anyway.”
I open my mouth to respond, but shoot up when I hear the click of a door and the unmistakable sound of shoes on hardwood. I’m already bouncing on my feet by the time Ronan comes into view. He’s looking mildly less haggard, and he appears to have changed his clothes and taken a shower. His eyes zero in on Lyric instantly, and his brow furrows.
“I told you torest.”
“What, and miss all the fun?” she lobs back, winking at him, which only makes him scowl as she smirks at the page in front of her.
Ronan groans, then turns and spears me in his gaze. He eats up the space between us, moving by me to the door. He merely steps close to it, and the many locks begin to whir and clink, snicking and snapping open. With one final loud grind of gears, there is a solidthunk, and the door creaks open. He pulls it wide, letting some of the early morning light spill into his house.
I pull my backpack on, gripping the straps tightly as I stand in front of him. He stares down at me, a grim look on his face. It matches my mood perfectly.
“I would tell you to stay here, to wait and plan more before making your move, but—”
“You know it would be a pointless ask,” I say, giving him an empty smile.
He nods, stepping back from the door as he shoves his hands in his pockets. We both know I’m out of time. I step into the doorway, turning and looking over my shoulder at them both.
“Thank you,” I say, but Ronan simply shakes his head.
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything more than facilitate an introduction between you andher. She was the one who decided to give you the key—I’m not sure I would have trusted you with it if I were in her shoes.”
“At least you’re honest,” I say, letting out a snort of laughter. Without another glance back at the pair, I step onto the city street.
I falter only once, when I realize I am walking onto a different street than the one I left just a couple of days prior. Turning back, I see the door closing on the same brownstone with the raven sentries. They watch me with their glass eyes, and I am only too glad to turn my back on them.
I march resolutely down the unfamiliar streets, knowing choosing a direction is pointless now. I won’t need to seek Alister out, won’t need to search for clues as to where the House is located. He’ll come for me long before that, only this time I will be ready for him.
The key with the glimmering luna moth bumps against my chest, hanging from a red thread tied around my neck. I imagine it tugging against the thread, leading me down an endless path in the dark.
The chime of a bell sounds as I step inside the diner. A tightness grips my throat as I’m reminded of Peggy and Mr. Mortimer. I wonder how he’s doing, if he ever got around to fixing the landline at his house.
