Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“A book?”
She reached down and then held out the small red-leather-bound book, making a sound of disdain at the same time.
“What’s with you?”
“I hated this book in high school,” she groused. “Even with your grandfather trying to make it interesting,” she said, leaning back down and turning the knob to extinguish the light and then gently closing the trapdoor. “I still hated it.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t give me the face.” She replaced the rug over the trapdoor. “You hated it too.”
Turning the book so I could see the spine, I read The History of Osprey.
“I mean, yes, we get the Iroquois and the settlers, and that was fun to read, but other than that, it’s a snore fest.”
It was. I remembered now. The history class in junior year. My grandfather explaining how the Native Americans and the settlers had to band together during the harsh winters, and how everyone had bonded, intermarried, and the community had flourished.
“You know,” she mused, “if that business about the cannibalistic family had been in there, I probably would have liked it much more.”
“The cannibalistic family?”
“Well, yes. You’re the one who told me all about it last week. You’re supposed to be finding me that book at the library. My God, man, your memory.”
Something about her saying the word jogged mine. I needed to ward her home, and Lorne’s, and I needed to do that now before they were attacked but then…why…
...why had I forgotten about that? And yes, things had happened, good and bad, but—that made no sense unless…for some reason, it wasn’t necessary.
The fact of the matter was, I wasn’t worried about Lorne’s family, or Amanda and hers because the reality was, no one was coming for them. The focus of the preternatural attacks was me. I was the guardian of the rift, no one else who wasn’t here with me on Corvus, was in danger. And while that was comforting to know others were safe, Lorne was with me now, which meant I had more than myself to consider.
“Are you listening to me?”
“What?”
She grunted.
“You brought me produce,” I said warmly. “Aren’t you an angel.”
She growled in response.
I watched her start to unload the things she’d brought from the bags she’d bumped down on the table. Clearly, she’d been to the farmers’ market very early in the morning. You had to arrive right at opening to score all the lovely fruit she had. The vegetables tended not to move, but the fruit went fast.
“I heard through the grapevine you’re getting your job back at the library, so you have no excuse not to find me that book about the crazy people.”
“They weren’t crazy, just cannibals.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes…?” I said, slightly distracted by the glimmer of an idea.
“I mean, I guess they did make a choice to eat other people, but we’re not talking about something horrific like the Donner Party or those poor soccer players in the Andes. It was the Andes, wasn’t it? You know I’m terrible with geography.”
“Yeah, I know you are, but I need you to drive me to the library.”
“Really?” she whined, just as something fell onto the table from the bottom of the bag.
“What is that?”
She made a face. “Oh, Xan, it’s time. You need a phone.”
I said what I always did. “There’s never been a phone at Corvus.”
“Which is great, and I’m not telling you to run fiber-optic cables out here, but a cell phone is a necessity. I need to be able to call you if there’s an emergency.”
“I—”
“What if, heaven forbid, I’m in an accident and die and you have to take care of my kids? People will need to be able to—ow!”
I’d smacked her arm because how dare she say something so awful.
“Fine, not dead,” she grumbled, slipping around the end of the table. “But what if Chief MacBain gets shot or something in the line of duty? Don’t you want to be the first to know?”
“Yes,” I rasped because I was feeling a bit vulnerable since Lorne left, and now she was bringing up horrors befalling both her and him.
“And what about Toby?” she pressed on. “What if he needs you and wants to call? And how in the world are they going to get you the information that you got your job back? People can’t keep driving over to see you to bring you news from town. This isn’t the Old West with the Pony Express and the stagecoaches.”
“As if either of those things was ever in Osprey.”
“Nothing exciting has ever been in Osprey but the cannibals.”
“That’s true,” I agreed, picking up the iPhone box. “Lorne has a solar charger for his. Did you happen to—”
She pulled out another box. “This is me you’re talking about. Have you ever known me not to be prepared?”
No, I had not.
It was a quick drive to the library—Osprey was only so big, after all—and when we got there, Amanda walked beside me, fiddling with my new phone, not paying a bit of attention to where she was going, trusting me to steer her through doors, up and down stairs, and around tables. She called her husband as I reached Nico Aoki’s desk. She checked books in and out on the weekends and every other Tuesday. I really liked her and her pixie-cut purple hair.