already dressed in a white business shirt, tucked into his tailored black pants, and polished shoes on his feet. His long white hair, in a low braided ponytail, now trailed down his back. He’d also shaved and hardly looked like the grieving man I’d sat with on the porch the night before.
“Hey,” I called back. “You look chipper this morning.”
He grabbed a cup from one of the cabinets and set about making tea. He sat across from me, causing the sun to frame his head with a halo.
“Do you want some of this in your coffee?” He opened his palm over the table, offering the pack full of herbs.
“What is it?”
“It helps deal with sorrow.”
I frowned. “You’re using magic to forget about Ebony’s death?”
“I’m using natural herbs to help ease the pain of her loss,” he said with a frown, staring at the green ball in his palm. “The irony is that Ebony introduced me to this. She was using quite a bit of it to wash away her own pain.”
A lump formed in my throat. It wasn’t right to judge him. Everyone dealt with loss differently, but I didn’t want to distance myself from the effects. Not immediately, anyway. Not when I’d made up my mind about Ebony’s situation not being final.
Whatever helps you cope, a nagging voice said inside my head.
“So, do you want some?”
I shook my head. “I don’t need it.”
Willow chose that moment to wander into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Unlike Oren who was ready to face the day, she was still wearing pajamas and her long hair was a mess. “Oh, hi,” she said, “I thought I heard voices.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” I said.
“You didn’t.” She sat on my left, so the three of us looked like we’d made a triangle. I knew how strong triangles were in terms of magic, and with the kitchen table between us I couldn’t help but remember The Ecliptic inscribed on the concrete floor inside this very house.
“Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” Oren asked.
“Yeah, thanks, I’d love a cup of coffee.” Willow rubbed her face.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I asked. If her puffy eyes and the dark circles were any indication, she wasn’t well.
“I feel drained, and a little hollow.” She sighed, loudly. “I just don’t know how much more death I can take, you know?”
“I can give you something that will help,” Oren called over his shoulder, as he prepared her coffee.
“Sure, why not?” Willow stared at the tabletop. “Michael is coming over later to study for the HSC.”
“He’s doing it this year too?”
“Sure is.”
“I’m sorry that you’re facing some of the most important exams of your life and there’s so much crap to deal with at home.” I hated to suggest this, but I owed it to her. “If you want to go and stay somewhere else, I would totally understand.”
“Where am I going to go? To Roe’s? Where everything will remind me of Eb?” she asked, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“You could stay with me,” Oren said as he placed a mug on the table in front of her.
She snorted. “You practically live here nowadays, so I’d be all alone anyway.”
“That’s true.” Oren chuckled. “Listen, while I’ve got the two of you to myself, I need to speak to you about something.”
“Oooh, that sounds serious.”
He looked at Willow. “I’m afraid it is.” When he turned my way for just an instant, I had a pretty good idea what he wanted to discuss. “I think it’s time we aired some family business that is well overdue. With everything that’s happened and what’s around the corner, it’s important for both of you to be well informed.”
I nodded. He’s right about that. The Obscurus played an unfair game, so knowledge was essential and provided as much power as any magical strength. Mace had revealed a nice nugget of information the night before—he didn’t know Grandma had moved onto the afterlife.
Oren sat back in his chair and focused on Willow. “I’m
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham