I squinted…. Actually, a bear. Stuck inside the cedar round. It wanted out. Needed me to free it.
“I’ve got you. I’m going to find you,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure how. I’d never worked with wood as a medium before. Didn’t even whittle. At about three feet tall and just as wide, I couldn’t even pick up this piece of brand-new-to-me media.
Luckily, Ravik had answered my “Can I have this?” with “I’ll send Boone over with it” before going back into the house.
Conversation over. No questions asked.
Less than fifteen minutes later, I had a big honking piece of wood sitting in front of my metal chair. Boone was the one who told me it was cedar and asked what I planned to do with it.
“Not sure,” I answered, just happy it was still humming. “Bye,” I said as I began the long process of peeling the bark off with my only kitchen knife.
A few times, I wondered if maybe I was losing my mind. Could be that the trauma had finally cracked something essential in my brain.
But when I finally got the rough bark peeled away, revealing pale wood beneath, I could see it—the bear trapped inside.
“Ready to take a break?” A warm, resonant voice interrupted myNo, you’re not crazy, just an artistdiscovery.
I blinked up at Zion, who was standing there with two covered bowls. He was wearing an argyle vest over a tie and a white button-up, and partially blocking what turned out to be the light of the setting sun.
Which meant I’d been out here on the cottage’s back deck, peeling away bark, for hours. Now that he mentioned it, my stomach started growling at the flavorful smell coming from the bowls.
“Is that for me?” I asked hopefully, suddenly starving.
“It is,” Zion confirmed.
My tummy cheered—then soured when I saw he also had that overnight bag I’d seen when I Goldilocksed his room slung over one shoulder.
Reporting for inside sentry duty.
“Boone thought you might have missed lunch,” he continued. “So, Ravik put an extra bowl in my oven.”
He nimbly stepped onto the back deck with me, careful to avoid the scattered pieces of bark. “May I join you for a late supper?”
It wasn’t technically nighttime yet, but it felt churlish to take the bowl of food and just bounce back into the house without letting him come in to eat, too.
So after washing up, we ended up sitting next to each other on the couch, eating a dinner of what turned out to be moose stew and something Zion called bannock bread.
I’d never had either before, but let me tell you, both were delicious.
Which made me feel some kind of way, considering that this morning, I’d yelled at the guy who made this dinner and told him I didn’t want him in my space.
It had felt like the most fitting response at the time, the only way for me to gain some power after he’d basically called me helpless to my face. But now, the conflict churned in my stomach alongside the stew.
I wasn’t used to disliking anyone outside of Dennis—but I couldn’t seem to stop being angry with thefirst maul, either.
I ate in silence, trying not to think about how this was yet another truly thoughtful gift from Ravik—one I didn’t deserve.
Well, at least I ate in silence. Zion immediately launched into a lament (alamentwas actually what he called it) about his day,which had been particularly long thanks to auditions for that pageant he’d mentioned during our walk.
Apparently, an unmotivated ne’er-do-well—again, his words not mine—named Jacobi Baerlow not only had thetemerity(also his word) to put forth the best audition for the pageant, but then, in his biggest display ofpresumptionyet, called ZionUncwhile announcing to everyone waiting to go on after him he’d obviously get the role because they were related.
“You’re related to him?”
“Not really. At least not in the Ayaska sense. Noelle’s third maul is his mother’s brother. So I suppose we’re in-laws. But in the past, I’ve refused to cast my own children in pageant roles due to Mara’s penchant for questioning the script, Mak’s lazy diction, and Takoda’s wooden delivery. Does he truly believe I’d favor him due to a distant familial connection?”
“So you’re not going to cast him?” I asked, trying to keep up.
“Of course I’ll cast him.” He tore off a piece of bannock with more force than strictly necessary. “The boy is an effortless natural talent and magnetic in the role. If he shows up to rehearsals and does the necessary script work, he will be our greatest Great Serpent yet. It’s infuriating.”
