“Sounds splendid.” Amantha sat down and took a sugar cookie. Finlay hobbled into the seat next to her, wincing as he sat down.
“All right, Fin?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Doing well.” He adjusted the bandages on his hand, and didn’t move to grab any food. His eyes were lidded and his face was gaunt.
He acted like Mister Tough Guy, but they’d really messed him up in Pruska. I could tell. His bravado had seriously been reduced.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” Amantha commented as I started in on my second pastry.
“By the day, slowly,” I said. Normally, sweets would make me throw up, but I was actually able to keep food down today. I was really excited about it.
There was a snapping noise behind us, like someone stepped on a branch. Finlay jumped, shaking the table. A couple of teacups spilled over. Amantha put a hand on his arm and gently whispered, “It’s all right. It’s only Arthur.”
Finlay slowly sank into his seat, but his complexion was paler than ever. Amantha shoved a cookie at him that he refused to eat.
Arthur was walking by with a rather large book. He adjusted his glasses as he glanced the table over. His gaze hovered on his children for a moment before he said, “You’re all looking rather fond this morning.”
“We’re having tea time!” Odette cheered. “Care to join us?”
Arthur hesitated, but he crumbled at the pleading look I gave him. He sat down next to me. Ozzie poured him a cup of tea, and handed him the saucer. Arthur sipped at the tea and nibbled at a strawberry danish as Ozzie asked, “So what are you reading?”
“Nothing important. Just an analysis of ancient Malovian children’s tales,” he replied.
He really wasn’t willing to give this up. This bordered on obsession. I ate an egg puff pastry and didn’t say anything.
“That sounds interesting,” Kiara said.
“It’s quite frustrating, actually,” Arthur said with a sigh. “So many of these stories were orally passed down, which means they were modified quite a bit throughout the centuries. By the time someone actually took the time to write them down, it seems they’d changed so much that no one could tell what the original story had been.”
Maybe my brother would give up trying to bring Vara back after all. We could only hope.
“Ugh, Kalina.” She was getting feisty in my arms, kicking out her feet and starting to yell. I didn’t know where she thought she was going— she couldn’t walk or crawl. She was such a handful sometimes.
“Here, let me,” Arthur offered. He held his arms out, and I nearly fell over in shock. I didn’t think he’d held his daughter… ever. Not since she’d been born.
Then a strange feeling rebelled in me— I didn’t want to give her up.
That was wrong. Against my own instincts, I handed over the baby. Arthur cradled Kalina against his chest. He bounced the baby up and down, who made a soft noise. She settled down.
He was making progress. This was great.
Kalina was asleep by the time he handed her back to me. Arthur was being such a good dad right now. He even played a little with Kazim. He shook a rattle in front of his face. The baby cooed and tried to grasp it with his fingers. Arthur gave a little laugh.
It was the first smile I’d seen grace my brother’s face in weeks. I prayed he was getting better, even if his research was still disturbing.
“What about this lost city we’re all baffled on? Did you find anything on that?” Delmare questioned.
Arthur’s cheeks tinted pink. “Ah, no. I’ve been busy with other matters.”
I scowled. I understood Arthur was grieving, but we needed his help. He couldn’t bring Vara back, but hecouldhelp us locate the Unseelie stone. If anyone could put together this mystery, it was him.
“Perhaps we’re not looking at the situation in the right way,” Kiara said. “We’re searching for answers outside of ourselves, but maybe we shouldn’t be. If Droga can’t find it, and he can’t find us, maybe the answer lies within.”
“What sense does that make?” I asked.
“No, Kiara might have a point. Maybe to find what the lost city is, you need to findyourself,” Arthur suggested. “You are the Worldweaver, after all. The missing piece must be you.”
I pondered on that idea. “If I’m the missing piece, and somehow, the information we need is tucked somewhere inside me, then how do we get it?”
