Page 34 of Wings of Ebony
Still nothing.
Don’t panic. Think.
Tasha’s voice rings down the hall, trying to coax the cat.
I can’t go back to Ghizon. I can’t go to Tasha’s family. At the moment I have an abandoned house and no magic. Back against the cracked yellow walls, I dig circles into my temples. This shit’s gonna get us killed. This is too much. It’s all just too much.
“You aight?” Her voice rings from the hall.
“Y-yeah!” I scramble up. “I’m good. J-just thinking.” I turn away from her approaching footsteps.
Across the room is the kitchen and Aunt Melba’s round table sits undisturbed at the center, coated in a layer of dust. A splintered crack runs through its middle, along with an overturned box of Fruity O’s and a dirty butter knife.
Think, Rue. Can’t go back to Ghizon. But I need answers about magic that can only come from Ghizon. Bri has an invention for literally everything, maybe she’ll have some ideas. I run my fingers across the table and it rocks on uneven legs.
I pace, raking my hands through my scalp, and feel a piece of metal in the back of my neck. The tracker Luke put in! I grab the butter knife. Too dull. I flip through the drawers and cabinets, loosing clouds of dust. Mail, napkins, soy sauce packets. I close that one and open another. Nestled between more to-go spork packages than a person could use in a lifetime is a burgundy pocket knife.
I flick it open and clamp my lip between my teeth.
Do it.
I suck in a breath and dig the knife into my flesh.Agh, it hurts!
I dig around the tracker’s metal rim, then slip the knifeunderneath it. Everything’s slippery with blood and my neck burns like a ring of fire. I bite down harder and ease the blade a millimeter deeper. A scream claws at my throat, but I swallow it back down and in one smooth motion, tilt my wrist up.
The tracker slips out, slimy and coated in red. A white light blinks from its top. Shoot, it’s still active. I toss it on the ground and it crunches under my shoe. The room sways a moment.
“Find me now, asshole,” I say under my breath, pressing my sleeve hard against the wound.
“Boo!” A paw touches my back.
“Ah!” I snatch up the butter knife and whip around. Best I got at the moment.
Tasha laughs. “OMG, the cat’s not gonna hurt you. A-and… is that… blood?”
“Meow.”
“Get that thing away from me.” I toss the knife. My nerves are shot. “It’s nothing. I-I’m fine.”
She looks at me weird a second, then rolls her eyes, stroking the cat’s head. “If you say so. And whatever, he’s cute. The rooms are empty, by the way. Looks like kitty lives here by his lonesome.”
I exhale. Across the length of the room and back, I pace over and over. Tasha’s on my heels going on about how she’s always wanted a cat, but it was always a no growing up because it was another mouth to feed. Her mouth is moving but I barely hear the words.
How do I get us out of this? Moms always said wemake a way out of no way. She said it’s not a choice, it’s required for anyone growing up in her household.
How do I make a way, Momma? How? When there really is noway.I have no weapon, no magic. People in Ghizon chasing us, some dude here after her…
Oh shit.
The guy from her bus stop.
She was grinning andgot in his car!And he fled. Who doesn’t stay to see if the person in the car with you during a wreck is okay? That doesn’t add up.
“I need to know who that guy was, T.”
Her brows cinch and she strokes the fur cradled in her arms. “I have no idea, Rue.” She looks away. Like she usually does when she’s lying.
“You cannot be serious right now. You lying?”
