If she could keep Kendra happy, then Auntie Zee would let her stay longer. And the longer she stayed…the more answers I can find.Had Kendra come out of the cleaning-supply closet? What about Mulligan? Why had he filled a vial with hot chocolate? She needed to know more! And for that, she needed to finish this cake.
She wished her hands would quit shaking so hard.
Nexus of realms.The words ricocheted inside her head.
Calisa smoothed the icing around the sides. It wasn’t bakery quality—the icing was uneven, and the cake itself leaned to one side. Jam clumped around the base, and she wished she knew how to make icing flowers to cover up the issues. It was, however, clearly a cake, which had been the goal. And as for her goal in coming here…well, an inn full of otherworldly guests was certainly a distraction from Ethan. She barked a laugh.
“It looks delicious,” Jack said behind her, and she jumped.
“How long have you been there?” Had he heard her cackling to herself? Almost certainly. Had she talked out loud? She didn’t think so.
“Not long.” His eyes slid toward the door, and she glanced out the window to see the statue just outside, looking in with her stone-blank eyes.
A shiver danced down her spine. “New question: How long hasshebeen there?”
“Longer,” Jack admitted.
“Can she talk?” Calisa asked. To the statue, she asked, “Can you talk?”
The statue was silent and motionless.
Crossing to the window, Calisa stared at the statue. Her eyes were smooth gray. No pupils. No irises. She had a crease where eyelids would be, but no lashes. Her lips were closed. “Is she like the Weeping Angels? Only moves when I’m not looking?”
“What are Weeping Angels?” Jack asked.
“FromDoctor Who. Never mind. Is she friendly?”
“She’s stone,” Jack said.
“That’s not a helpful answer.”
“It wasn’t a reasonable question.”
She thought it was very reasonable. There was, really, a ludicrous amount Calisa didn’t know about all of this, but it would be helpful to know if the shudder she felt was warranted. She skipped to the most important question: “Is she going to murder me?”
Jack rocked backward. “Of course not!”
“How do you know, if she can’t talk?” The statue still hadn’t moved, not even to flinch at the suggestion that she was murderous.
“She wouldn’t,” Jack said stoutly.
A point in the statue’s favor: Jack hadn’t been murdered yet. “I guess statistically I’m more likely to be murdered by a random human than a statue.”
“Can we stop talking about murder and talk about cake instead?”
Calisa grinned. That had sounded so adorably pathetic, likehe’d been craving cake for his entire life and would perish without a bite of it in the next ten minutes. It was impossible to stay mad at him. It was like trying to stay mad at a puppy dog, especially one with nice eyes, nice hair, and incredible muscles, who actually listened to what she said and cared what she felt and had stepped in front of her when an irate guest had charged toward her—Focus, Calisa,she told herself. “I have more questions.”
He sighed. “Of course you do. Can you just…not ask Auntie Zee? I’ll answer whatever I can. Just please don’t let her know you know.”
“But Idoknow, and she can explain all of it.”
“Yeah, but she’ll askhowyou know, and she’ll never believe I didn’t tell you. I’ll be fired, and you’ll be sent home.”
Calisa opened her mouth to say she’d defend him—but how would she explain how she’d figured it out? She’d broken one of Auntie Zee’s only rules, rather flagrantly. She’d absolutely be sent home if she admitted that. “You’ll tell me what I want to know? No more lying?”
“I’ll do my best.”
She could live with that.
