Page 42 of The Stone Survival
“Not yet. I think…I think I’ll see where the road takes me.”
She nods slowly. “I hope it brings you back here sometime.”
I cross the room and pull her into a hug. She melts against me and buries her face in the crook of my neck. “Being cursed sucks.”
“You’re not cursed, Cali. You’re just you. You don’t have to close yourself off to love because of what you are.”
She pulls back with a wistful smile. “If only it were that easy.” The sound of a tinkling bell has her sighing and rolling her eyes. “And we’re still fucking closed. What is wrong with these people?” She hurries out of the door. “I’ll be right back.”
I grab my pack and give the guest room a final once-over to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. Who am I kidding? I came with nothing, so anything I forget isn’t even mine.
There’s a mug of tea on the table in the lounge, along with a plate of toast. Pretty sure they’re for me. It’s the mug she’s been making my beverages in the past few days.
I take a sip. Sweet and strong just the way I like it.
Calista returns, sporting a frown. “This came for you.” She hands me an envelope. But when I go to take it, she pulls it back. “Don’t let them suck you back in,” she warns.
“You don’t know it’s from them.”
“Who else knows you’re here?”
“Good point.” I wiggle my fingers in a gimme gesture, and she reluctantly hands it over, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously likeI should have burned it. “You’re going to watch me open it, aren’t you?”
“You bet your ass I am. I’m not having your so-called friends try and pull you back into danger.”
“Aw, you love me.”
Her expression is serious as she says, “Damn straight I do. Now open it.”
I tear open the envelope and quickly read the message before starting at the beginning and reading it again slowly.
“What is it?” Calista asks.
“It’s from Orix. The elite were attacked and…” I blow out a breath. “Serath is alive.”
“The sigma who was taken by the graynites?”
“Yeah. There’s a war coming.”
“Did it ever end?”
“No. Cal, up until this point, we’ve been living in a stalemate, but now the balance is about to be tipped in the enemy’s favor, and they need my?—”
“Don’t!” She holds up a hand. “Don’t youdaresay it.”
I give her the eyes. The ones that always sway her.
She exhales in frustration. “Fucking hell, Marcel. What have they asked you to do?”
“To prepare a plan B.”
“And what does that entail?”
“Gathering an army.”
CHAPTER 21
TOURON
