Page 26 of Iris
She’s holding a threadbare, once bright soft toy owl, who I’m assuming is the Delores in question. She stamps her Mary Janes on the stone. “If we’re lost, we can’t eat. I’m hungry.”
The owl, of course, doesn’t answer, but she finally senses me standing there, and her head turns sharply up. Those big eyes are the darkest of blue as they look at me, and her chin trembles. “Look, it’s the pretty lady from the park.” She turns the owl to me. “Delores wants to know if you’re lost, too.”
What I am is on the edge of hiding.
But we’re both out of place here in this alley. The girl should be home, and I should be kissing Sophine’s feet. But here I am, and the little girl needs me.
As does your family.
I ignore the voice and squat down, careful not to ruin my dress in the dirty alley. I’ll do a lot of things, but ruining a dress I spent hours fixing up isn’t my jam.
“I’m not lost. I’m…exploring,” I say.
Her eyes light up. “I want to be an explorer.”
“You can be anything you want to be.”
Her nose crinkles, the almost-tears forgotten. Then she smiles.
“A space explorer pirate princess,” she says.
“Perfect.” I grin and hold out my hand. “I’m Iris.”
“Emmie. And this is Delores.” She shoves the owl at me and pushes the owl’s dilapidated hand into mine.
“Hello, Delores. Aren’t you wise and pretty? Almost as pretty and wise as Emmie here.” I look down. “Hello, Emmie.”
“You can hold Delores.”
I take Delores from her and make sure to be careful. This is clearly the girl’s favorite toy. Rue used to have a turtle she’d drag around until she was ten. Mr. Tiggles was his name, if I remember correctly.
The memory makes me smile. “Emmie, do you know where you live?”
She scoffs. “Of course I doos. So doos Delores. We live at the magical Black Briar. It’s a castle.” But then she frowns. “I don’t know where it is.”
“Well, how about you, me, and Delores find it?”
“It is gone.”
I smile. “Only because you haven’t found it yet. I’ll help. I’m good at finding magical castles.”
“You are?” she asks, gasping.
I nod. “I am.”
“Okay!”
I take her hand. “Why don’t you tell me all about it?” I ask as I pull out my phone and start typing inBlack Briarinto the search engine.
The Black Briar is tricky to find, but I follow the e-map on my phone. Emmie chatters the entire way.
By the time we draw near, I’ve learned a lot. Her favorite color—green. Her favorite food—chocolate ice cream, which is also Delores’s—the owl’s got good taste.
She tells me all about her daddies, too.
Daddies.Plural.
Emmie has two fathers.
