He grudgingly takes note of what I’m pointing at and then promptly spins on his heel and scurries away. Irritation simmers inside of me as I sit back down and continue scanning the pages for my father’s and gran’s name. It’s then that it hits me. That can’t be my mother, Gran’s first name was Sedora, not Anik—or maybe it was Verse that was the mother; it’s hard to tell gender from these weird ass names.
I sigh and let the excitement of finding a possible clue float away. Maybe my mother’s name and my middle name were common here? Once again I’m assuming my family was actually from this world. Maybe my parents never set foot in this place, and I’m just reading too far into fragmented memories and a crumbling ring. I could have beenStargateportalled here simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I let those thoughts float around in my mind for a while, but even as I do, it doesn’t ring true to me. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I just can’t believe this is all coincidence. The things I know...what I am...there’s no way that’s all by chance. I close the records I’ve been skimming through and sit back in my chair with a huff.
“No luck today?” a familiar deep voice asks from behind me.
Pigeon sits up like a hyper golden retriever who’s so excited it can’t keep its ass from wiggling. I give her the side-eye.
“Oh, now you wake up?”I observe, a heavy dose of judgment in my tone.
Pigeon sends me an image of a person batting a fly away. I snort incredulously.
“Right, because I’m the fly in this scenario.”
I flash Pigeon an image of flies on shit and then flash another image of her trying to be all fangirly with Treno.“I don’t see much of a difference, do you?”I ask her.
I can feel Pigeon’s eye roll, and I shake my head. I should probably just be grateful she’s talking to me at all. That’s the most we’ve said to each other since the whole fight over Ryn. I look over my shoulder and watch Treno make his way over to me. I try not to appreciate his long stride and powerful presence, but Pigeon is flooding me with hormones. That shit forces me to appreciate dumb things like his walk or the way his hair lifts on the breeze.
Pigeon is a weirdo.
“No luck today,” I admit, turning back around to face my pile of books.
He sets a hand on each side of me, leaning over to take in the books on the table.
“I thought I might have found something, but it turned out to be nothing,” I go on, as Treno sneaks a deep inhale of my hair.
I don’t know if he’s aware that he’s not so sneaky about smelling me, but I don’t point it out either way. So he likes to smell me, it could be worse. He could be a raging douche bag. An image of Zeph sparks in my mind, and I’m instantly flooded with irritation.
“What’s wrong?” Treno asks, apparently picking up on subtle cues of annoyance I didn’t even know I was emitting.
“Nothing, just not everyone in this place is very helpful. I want answers, but I also want to punch things,” I tell him on a hollow chuckle.
“Tell me who I have to kill?” he asks casually, and I laugh, not able to help myself.
I tilt my head back and stare up at him. He stares down at me, the traces of humor I expect to be in his different colored eyes absent. We stare at each other for a moment, and I find myself peculiarly aware of how easy it would be for him to just close the distance between our lips. I wonder what it would be like to upside-down Spiderman-kiss him, and then I wonder what it would be like to kiss him normally.
I pull my gaze from his and sit up.
“Well, I can’t speed up the search for answers, but I can maybe help with the other thing. I have some work to do, would you like to come with me?” he asks, his smile and chin dimple on point today. “You just might get to punch some things,” he adds in a promising singsong voice.
“Well, in that case…” I start, and Treno chuckles and pulls my chair out from the table.
I stand up, and he motions for me to follow him out of the archives. I’m torn for a minute about abandoning my search for information, but I’ve been at it all fucking day. Not to mention, if I have to deal with that Purt asshole again, I may do something that gets me banned from this place, and then I’d really be sorry. I give myself permission to take a break, for the greater good, and move to follow Treno.
7
“Where are we?” I ask as I touch down and fold my wings behind me.
Treno is already striding toward the tree line on the edge of the clearing we just landed in. I look around for the guards that accompanied us on our flight out here, but I can’t spot them anywhere. Excitement courses through me as Treno smiles over his shoulder and motions for me to follow him. For a split second, I wonder if it’s wise to follow anyone out into the middle of nowhere, regardless of the world you find yourself in, but Pigeon is awake and just as eager as I am. Hopefully, if this somehow goes to shit, she’ll step in and rip some heads off.
I weave around large tree trunks and have to practically run to keep up with Treno and his long ass legs. Suddenly the powerful stride I was drooling over earlier isn’t so cute. The trees are a different color than the ones in the forest around the Eyrie. The bark is pale and lacking the red tones I saw in the massive trees protecting the stronghold of the Hidden. Their size here is big, but nowhere near the redwood sized behemoths that gave me shelter when I was on the run from Ryn and Zeph.
Treno stops and crouches between two trees. He traces something in the dirt. I catch up to him and crouch down to see what has his gaze glittering with determination and excitement like it is. All I see is a muddy puddle.
“What is going on?” I ask on a whisper, figuring there’s got to be more going on here and I just don’t get it.
“Why are you whispering?” he asks me as he stands up and starts to unlace the ties of his tunic.
