Page 97 of Wings of Ebony
I walk out. I can’t make somebody see something they ain’t ready to. Maybe with time she’ll come around. It’s not my job to unpack that for her. I’m unpacking my own shit, thank you very much.
And besides, I have bigger things to worry about. Like keeping my people alive when it feels like everyone, everywhere wants to see us dead.
CHAPTER 30
THE DINING AREA ISa chatter of conversations over breakfast, but I’m distracted by the scrape of my fork on my plate. I push the food around, as if that’ll make it smaller, and flex my wrists.
Late last night, word arrived that the General’s men left and came back with twice the numbers. And now they’re inside the mountain tunnel trying to force their way through the wall. Ireallyhope the enchantment holds. Everyone here is oddly calm, trusting that it will, but as a precaution, every person, men and women alike, is covered in plated armor with war-painted faces. With their magic so weak and the cuffs not responding to me… I can’t even think about what’ll happen if the General manages to break through.
The cuffs stuffed in my hoodie taunt me. I was up until damn near sunrise trying to spark some sort of magic. At times, I could feel a tug, like the magic’s there. But the cuffs don’t answer. It’s like they chose me, then changed their mind. How many more people are going to die before I can figure this out?
I shove my plate away. A chunk of glazed dough plops in Bri’s bowl. She works her fingers around the two-prong sticks they gave her. I know they have forks back there because they offered me a fork yesterday.
“You need a hand?” I ask her.
“No, I got it.” We haven’t spoken since the argument. I don’t know what to say to her. She keeps getting side-eyes from everyone, a few whispers here and there. But she keeps her head down, eating. She sighs, exasperated, storming up from the table.
I love her, but she’s going to have to work through this on her own.
Aasim is across from me, neck deep in his fille—which is like rice, but purple. I’d told him earlier this morning that I wanted to leave today.
“Not yet! Let me look into something first, then we can get out of here,” he’d said.
“Today though, right?” I’d pressed.
“Hopefully. Butreallysoon.” He’d said he has a plan to share with me, but the Chancellor fell off his radar, so he wanted to square that up before we get moving.
I want to get back to Tasha and take care of the General from there, meet him off his turf. Basic squabble rules: jump somebody on their home turf, end up outnumbered. I’ma start at Dezignz, taking his boys out one by one. Make them summon him. Draw him out. Assuming I can get these damn cuffs to work.
But how will I even get out of here with the General supposedly in the mountain trying to break through? I make a point to ask Aasim about that later and rub my temples, trying to ignore the nagging feeling things are spinning out of control. I chew my lip a littletoohard.Ow.
“Your mother did that.” Aasim tears a bite from a buttered roll. “She would bite her bottom lip whenever she was nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
He laughs. “She would lie about it, too.”
I roll my eyes. My father’s nose is wide and his jaw angular, like mine. His long fingers wrap around his spoon as he slurps another bite. My “piano” fingers are oddly long, too. Moms used to joke about getting us one, knowing damn well we ain’t have room or money for that. I let silence hang there a minute, massaging my wrists, sore from the weight of the cuffs I’d worn for hours last night.
“So, how… uhm… how’d you meet Moms?”
He looks up all too eager, smiling. “You really want to know?”
Gah.Don’t make this more awkward than it already is. “Uhhh, yeah. I asked didn’t I?” I swear I don’t mean for it to come out that way. It just does. “S-sorry. I-I mean, yes, I’d like to know. Please.”
“Your mom had a smart mouth, too. Couldn’t tell her anything. That’s actually how it started.”
“Oh yeah?” I settle back against my chair, trying to stop grinning like a little kid. I can’t remember the last time I smiled like this. And with everything going on, I could use a smile.
“I was there, scouting the place. Thinking about storing the cuff somewhere in the human land, so I’d slip over time to time and just observe. Anyway, this one time I visited a spot I liked. They had a guy there who played jazz like velvet. I’d never heard anything like it. So I snuck in and there she was. It was speakeasy night and she took the mic. When she opened her mouth, it was over. I knew, Ghizoni or not, I never wanted to leave her sight.”
“So…?”
“So, I didn’t leave.” He laughs. “I stayed there and tried talking to her. She was all attitude at first. But I really liked that jazz style so I’dbeen reading up on it and she was impressed I knew a thing or two.”
Imagining Moms doing anything but working is sort of weird. “Moms sees straight through BS. Can’t get one past her.”
“Yes, she does.” His shoulders slump. “Did.”
